


I Don't Think I love You

by Anki_Shai



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Avari freeform, Bottom Thranduil, Dwelf Kíli, Dwelf Twins, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Lord Of The Rings AU, Love/Hate, M/M, Mild Smut, Mpreg, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, One-Sided Attraction, Romance, Self-Lubrication, Soul Bond, Thráin suffers from gold sickness, Top Thorin, hobbit au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-19
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 05:35:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 360,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2640008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anki_Shai/pseuds/Anki_Shai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Thranduil of the Woodland Realm promised himself to never love again. Prince Thorin of Erebor promised himself to never need love. Both of them are different in all the ways you can imagine, and yet they are more alike that they care to admit.</p><p>When a political marriage force them to share their time with one another they will realize some promises are meant to be broken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Day of Durín

**Author's Note:**

> I found this story lost among some document meant for my college. This story is half finished so I thought I leave this chapter here to see what you guys think about it and if I should continue it. This is completely AU, but it does contain some of the Tolkien elements. I hope you like it and then, we will see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recently, it has come to my attention that some of my works had been taken down without my authorization and upload for downloading as e-books, mobi, odf, etc and they're charging for some of them. I just want to make clear only AO3 and my personal blog have the full rights of my work, I know this is a fanfiction and that in theory we're using characters and places that don't belong to me, however, the ideas in the story, the plot and other intellectual work is mine and is part of my fellow fanfic writers. Thank you for your consideration.

**Chapter 1**

**The Day of Durín**

It all started when the last moon of autumn made its last appearance in the sky, covering the land with its silver light, the left side of the mountain finding its way to the first rays coming from the primary sun of winter. Silver and gold intertwined in a single vision of light moving slowly above the smooth surface of the magical marble, it wasn’t until the light reached the top of the stones, a single name made it appear, and then the mountain was filled with the sound of a deep horn resounding in the Lonely Mountain.

The sound was welcomed with cheers and music announcing the Day of Durín had arrived.

***

Prince Thranduil of the Woodland Realm accommodated the silver circlet on top of his head. He smirked admiring his beautiful features on the mirror while making sure his clothes were flawlessly in place. He felt a pair of arms circling his waist just as someone started placing sensuous kisses on his neck. He gasped placing his hands on his lover’s arms, tilting his head to the side to give the man the space he needed to continue with his inviting kisses.

“I should leave.” Thranduil whispered feeling the hard arousal of the man rubbing against his ass.

“I don’t want you to go.” The man whisper nibbling the pointy ear of the elf, he smirked knowing this was the most sensitive place of his lover.

“Father is going to send for me soon…if he finds…” Thranduil was turned around roughly; the young prince welcomed the kiss wrapping his left leg around the man’s waist.

“I don’t care. Let him find you in my bed, perhaps like this we can stop hiding.” The man replied breathing hard.

Thranduil tensed finding his self-control just before things got out of hand. Bard, King of the City of Dale knew he had said the wrong thing the moment Thranduil used his immortal force to push him away. Bard glanced disbelievingly at Thranduil, passion still evident in both of them.

“I care.” Thranduil said putting as much distance between him and Bard as he could manage.

Bard clenched his fists, looking away from the elf in frustration. “I’m tired of being a secret, Thranduil.” Bard mumbled. “You can’t deny this between us is more than sex.”

“Oh, but I can.” Thranduil replied giving the man a half-smirk. “We fuck, Bard. There is nothing else to this, you give me pleasure as much as I give you pleasure.”

Bard clenched his jaw shaking his head, “You can’t mean that. You…You can’t tell me you don’t feel anything.”

Thranduil furrowed his brows, “When we first started this affair, you assured me you wouldn’t start getting any feelings involved. However, if his Majesty is incapable of keeping his part of the bargain, I think it is better to stop our meetings here and now.”

Thranduil turned around ready to leave the room but Bard moved quick, stopping him before he could reach the door. Thranduil tensed glancing at the hand wrapped around his forearm, Bard made a face of desperation glad the Prince was facing the other way.

“No, I don’t want to stop seeing you.” Bard hesitated letting go of Thranduil’s forearm. “I will keep my part of the bargain. But, I want you to consider my words, Thranduil.”

“There is nothing to consider, King Bard.” Thranduil tilted his head looking back at Bard. “I won’t be seeing you tonight, so don’t come looking after me.”

Bard watched as Thranduil left his room with the utmost secrecy, a sharp pain went right through his heart and for a moment he felt nothing but desperation. The King trembled clenching his fists while his body tingled with wanting, and the lack of warmth only Thranduil seemed to provide. It wasn’t the first time they had this conversation, but it was certainly the first time Thranduil had threatened to finish their deal.  Bard wasn’t ready to allow it, he wasn’t ready to let go of the elf…even though he knew he wasn’t the only one warming Prince Thranduil’s bed.

Not for the first time, the King cursed the day he allowed Thranduil any claim on his heart.

***

Prince Thorin fixed the crown on his head, grunting annoyingly at the servants fixing the rest of his clothing. Balin and Dwalin, his two best friends, followed him swiftly telling him about the people who were going to be present in the celebrations of the Day of Durín.

It was not mystery for the crowned Prince of the Dwarf Kingdom, he had to attend and be host to most of the important dignitaries during the dinner. The day had been spent in the celebrations of his people, organizing the dinner while his father and the council entertained the honorable guests. Now, it was Thorin’s turn to make himself know.

“Finally, and most graciously, there is King Oropher and the crowned Prince Thranduil of the Woodland Realm. Our neighbors.” Balin said.

“I know who they are, Balin. The blasted elves are always showing their arses haughtily wherever they go.” Thorin rolled his eyes. “It’s kind of hard to miss the bunch of arrogant annoying creatures.”

“Again, our neighbors.” Balin replied rolling his own eyes while Dwalin merely hit Thorin on his arm shaking his head disapprovingly. “They are not _only_ our neighbors but also the main source of goods we need to survive.”

Thorin grunted, “Very well, I try not to infuriate the pansy Prince while attending the dinner.”

“He is known to be quite  _adventurous_.” Dwalin explained suddenly, Thorin stopped death on his tracks sending away the servants before turning curious eyes to his best friend.

While Thorin had met King Oropher and had interacted with him before, his dealing with the Prince had been quite unexpected. He had been young, looking for an adventure when he came across the elf; to say Thorin found himself mystified by him would be a lie. Whether it had been for the light or the fact he was thirsty and tired, Thorin had confused the elf with an angel. Of course, the Prince had laughed but, at the same time, he had extended his help. Everything had been fine until Thorin saw another elf. Younger, taller than Thorin but shorter than Thranduil, the young elf was blond and had deep blue eyes regarding him with curiosity.

Thorin remembered the day as if it had been yesterday, whoever this young elf was; Thorin wasn’t meant to meet him. Not if the sudden panic coming from Thranduil was any sign, or how fast they had left after having helped him. He hadn’t mentioned this encounter to anyone and, when he had asked about the princes of Mirkwood his teacher corrected him telling him there was only one.

Thorin wasn’t adverse to the rumors placing the Prince as a seducer of whatever fancies his tastes, but hearing Dwalin speak about it could only mean this was something else. If there was anyone in the Dwarf Kingdom who was good at uncovering secrets, it was Dwalin and his net of spies.

“Should I be worried?” Thorin asked half amused, half incredulously. Even if the stories about the Prince were the truth, what made Dwalin think the elf would set his affections or attentions on him?

“My Prince, I just care for your well-being, this means you should go well-informed.” Dwalin replied.

Thorin made a face, his eyes gleaming at Dwalin then at Balin, “I am. Besides, you two are coming with me, nothing can go wrong.”

Dwalin and Balin glanced at each other while Thorin turned to make his way to the Dining Hall, the two brothers followed their Prince guilt and worry filling their hearts.

***

Music filled the Dining Hall with the melody of violins and flutes; the light was vivid, and bright enough to allow the guests pleasant conversation under the glow of magical lamps the work of master craftsmen of Erebor. The aroma of recently cooked food filled the nostrils of the present; wine came as much as beer and everyone seemed to be happy in the celebrations.

Thorin nodded politely at young Bain who was congratulating him on the recent hunting trip he had made. The young man spoke enthusiastically about his own endeavors, with hope lining his voice that he would perhaps be allowed to accompany Thorin at another time. Thorin had agreed smiling back at the young man who made sure to train harder as to not be a nuisance.

“My son seems pretty taken with you, Prince Thorin.” Bard approached the dwarf smiling politely at him.

“Your Majesty”. Thorin greeted turning his attention to Bain. “He is a good lad. I hope he can accompany me on the next hunting trip, I wasn’t making idle promises to him.”

Bard chuckled, his black eyes gleaming smartly at Thorin, “I know of this, your Highness. Thank you for extending an invitation to him.”

“It is my pleasure, King Bard.” Thorin then moved onto the other guests. He worked his charm perfectly, speaking to show himself as educated to men and other dwarves while establishing small conversation.  He made his way from one group to the other until finally he couldn’t keep eluding the inevitable.

Thorin Oakenshield walked to the table in which the shadows were keeping the Prince of the Woodland Realm hidden.  As Thorin approached the table, the dwarf Prince wondered if the elf would remember him. His mind worked on the different ways the conversation could go and he tried to bury deep inside his heart the encounter and the nervous tension upon his chest.

By the time he reached the table, Thorin could notice the beauty of the Eldar shining on those fair features. The long blond hair fell upon the elf’s shoulders like a golden cascade, adorning a smooth face with light deep blue eyes. The elf had broad shoulders with a body built out of training and battle experience; however, he didn’t carry with him any scars, only marble skin, unmarked by time or injuries. The Prince wore his silver circlet on the forehead, with a dark robe wrapping tightly around his body. Prince Thranduil smiled at him, his lips curling delicately showing off white teeth. The elf exuded confidence and invitation; something Thorin noticed with precaution.

“Prince Thorin Oakenshield.” The elf spoke softly measuring every word, his lips curling in amusement while his eyes made sure to take into every detail of the dwarf in front of him. Taller than other dwarves, well-built with fierce blue eyes, and sharp features; Thorin Oakenshield was a wild gem deserving of a closer examination. Something Thranduil found himself inclined to do.

“Prince Thranduil, it is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Oh, it isn’t yet but, if I have my way, it would be pretty much our pleasure to get acquaintance with one another.” Thranduil replied signaling the chair in front of him, the elf quirked a brow impressed at the lack of sputtering reaction from the dwarf.

“I expect his majesty is enjoying the celebrations?” Thorin asked politely sitting down while narrowing his eyes.

Thranduil tilted his head rotating the goblet of wine he was holding on his left hand; the elf looked around boringly shrugging.

“I can say I’ve attended more  _lively_  celebrations. But, I won’t complain about the nature of this party as long as I have company such as yours.” Thranduil smirked enjoying the twitched on Thorin’s eye.

“It is a shame you aren’t capable of enjoying real celebrations.” Thorin replied. “Must be difficult to try and be part of something where you are not the center of everyone’s attention.”

“Oh? Whatever may you mean by that?” Thranduil retorted arching his eyebrows, his eyes gleamed with emotion as he spoke. “Could it be my reputation precedes me? Or, is it the inability of Prince Thorin to keep his guests entertained? Trying to justify your lack of imagination? The last time I attend Durin’s day in the land of Dwarves, the crowned Prince was more…effective in his preparations.”

Thorin clenched his fists knowing the last time it had been on his grandfather’s day, when he was Prince and Thráin was just a young lad. Thorin glared at Thranduil who smiled sweetly at him, the elf leaned forward his eyes moving from Thorin’s eyes to the dwarf’s mouth then back up again.

“Then again, King Thrór was driven by ambition and greed, powerful incentives for him to get whatever he wanted.”

“Is it a costume for elves to insult the royal family of his hosts? Or is it merely Prince Thranduil’s poor attempts at trying to be witty and interesting?” Thorin snorted glancing with indifference at the elf in front of him.

Thranduil laughed leaning back on his chair while shooting Thorin a cold stare, “Excellent, I haven’t found such a sharp tongue in a long time. And I thought this was going to be boring.”

A moment of silence went through them in which Thorin couldn’t look away from those piercing eyes, the elf was highly amused but there was no interest or any other form of recognition in those blue eyes.  Thorin narrowed his eyes, anger building up inside his chest at the sudden thought this  _Prince_  was mocking him, and Thranduil was pretending not to know him only to ridicule him.

“You have found my sharp tongue before.” Thorin said suddenly, Thranduil blinked for the very first time breaking his façade to show perplexity. Thorin snorted quirking a brow at the Prince. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

Thranduil visibly tensed, silver eyes centered their attention on Thorin while his mind tried to recollect any memories of having met the Prince before. Thranduil blinked confused, tilting his head while allowing his eyes a quick sweep of the dwarf in front of him. Nothing about Thorin screamed at him familiarity; the elf finally locked his eyes with Thorin’s, and he hated the mocking glint he discovered there.

Thranduil gave a half-smile to the dwarf, “It is not in my nature to remember ill-favored individuals.”

“Uh? So dwarves had never been part of the repertoire of folk sharing the Prince’s bed?” Thorin spat back.

Thranduil clenched his jaw; the smile was now looking more like a grimace while his blue eyes shot daggers at him. Then as sudden as the rage had risen inside Thranduil it dissipated and was replaced by a cold indifference with only small traces of contempt, directed towards Thorin.

“Of course, I tend to share my bed only with finest. Perhaps this is how I met you?” Thranduil leaned forward until his mouth was beside the dwarf’s ear, the elf smirked feeling the shiver coming from Thorin.  “With you trying to get into my bed, offering yourself but finding my tastes are refined and not easily pleased by a half-wit of a creature? Perhaps, if you were to wait, I could drink enough to forgo your ugliness and please myself regardless of your shortcomings, you are still a prince.”

Thorin growled pushing Thranduil away; the elf opened his eyes quite surprise at the strength behind the Prince.  The both of them couldn’t take their eyes off each other, Thorin looking flustered and angry whereas Thranduil was looking shocked but rather pleased. There was not friendship or any good will missed between them. There was only anger and cold animosity.

“You will keep your debauchery to yourself,  _elf._  I suppose it was too much to ask that Thranduil was a decent Prince or held any honor.” Thorin stood up sneering down at the elf. “I believe the rumors are true then, you are nothing more than a mewling quid who offer _favors_ for nepotism.”

Thranduil clenched his teeth ready to stand up and answer the dwarf when both Princes were surprised by their respective fathers. Thráin smiled quite falsely at Thorin, hitting him on his back while bowing his head to Thranduil.

“Splendid, splendid! I see the two of you are already getting acquaintance.” Thráin comment jovially, Oropher placed himself behind his son placing a soothing hand on the Prince shoulder.

“Oh, yes, we were getting to know one and other, discovering the truth nature of your son, King Thráin was one of the few pleasures I mourn deeply.” Thranduil said.

“Thranduil.” It was a single word coming from his father, but it was enough to make Thranduil shift uncomfortably.

Thráin laughed shaking his head, “Not to worry, not to worry. There is not harm done when those words are nothing but the truth.”

Thorin looked at his father out of the corner of his eye, but remained silent beside him. Thráin tightened his hold on his son’s shoulder as a warning.

“He is quite difficult to deal with at first. A trait he inherited from his mother, I’m afraid.” Thráin said.

“What a shame he could not learn more from you, your Majesty.” Thranduil replied, never once looking away from the furious Thorin.

Thranduil stood up placing the golden cup on the table, “I am afraid I found myself quite tired. May I retire?”

Oropher glanced at his son then back at Thráin, “No, however you will be escorted alongside Prince Thorin to King Thráin’s private study where the four of us shall hold a long chat.”

To say Thorin and Thranduil felt dread inside their hearts would be accurate, the only time they had known their parents to agree upon something was usually in the cold dealing of politics. Ignoring, by all means, one another. Thorin and Thranduil were taken away from the party by Dáin who could not help but sent lascivious stares to the Elven-Prince once in a while. The silence was filled with tension; both princes were filled with animosity as they were left on their own in the private study.

The both of them didn’t have to wait too long, just as they were starting to get restless the doors of the study opened allowing entrance to the Kings. Both Oropher and Thráin entered the room while placing themselves on their respective chairs; Thranduil furrowed his brows eyeing his father, a sense of foreboding gripping his heart when he realized the elf would not look at him.

“Please, sit down. There is much we need to discuss before the night ends.” Thráin pointed at the other chairs in the room, and with reluctance both Princes sat down facing their Kings.

“The reason we decided to bring you here is to share with you the good news.” Oropher glanced at his son then at Thorin. “We have decided it is time for the Woodland Realm and Erebor to join in a single union.”

Thranduil paled, his eyes opening wide as he tried to lock eyes with his father. Thorin merely frowned not liking the way his father seemed to be smiling with a hint of craziness in his eyes.

“What do you mean by that, King Oropher? I thought you only have one son.” Thorin replied slowly, Thráin smirked chuckling darkly.

“Yes, he does.” Thráin confirmed glancing at Thranduil, then at Thorin.

It took all but a second for Thorin to realize what his father and King Oropher meant, he opened his eyes in horror shaking his head.

“No! You can’t mean…You are cannot be planning on arranging a marriage between me and  _Prince Thranduil_?” Thorin exclaimed making sure he put an emphasis on Thranduil’s name. He shot daggers to the elf who was staring at his father.

“We are not planning, Thorin.” Thráin retorted coldly, he leaned forward making sure his son was paying attention to him. “It has already been arranged. You and Prince Thranduil are to marry in a years’ time.”

“But, father…” Thorin began a pleading notion in his voice.

“Silence! I am King and I am speaking Thorin.” Thráin shut Thorin immediately. “This is not optional and I am not asking your opinion. You are to marry him in a year’s time and this is final.”

Thranduil could not focus his thoughts, his limbs went numb and his chest felt compressed with a cold emptiness. Oropher lifted his eyes to finally face his son, but the only thing Thranduil could see there was the face of a King, not that of a father.

“We thought it prudent to announce the word of your engagement tomorrow, after which I will take my leave and you will stay here to learn and get to know your fiancé.” Oropher said.

“You are leaving me here?” Thranduil whispered indignantly, he narrowed his eyes while clenching his fists. “You can’t.”

Oropher shoot him a warning glance, “You will stay here, Thranduil. I will send to you a proper guard, but for now you will remain here.”

“No need to worry, Prince Thranduil.” Thráin interrupted leaning back on his chair. “I know I can’t keep you away from your people far too long, so you and my son would visit the Woodland Realm in five or six months. After all, Thorin needs to learn about you and your land as well.”

Thranduil felt his eyes stinging with tears as he turned a supplicant stare to his father, this went unnoticed by Thráin but not by his son who couldn’t help but watch with growing curiosity the interaction. Oropher shook his head lifting his chin.

“I will advise you and Prince Thorin to get use to the idea by tomorrow, in which you will be presented as a happy, political couple.” Oropher said.

“Well said, my friend.” Thráin stood up. “This is going to benefit us both and, with time, the both of you will learn to live with one another. Now, I think we should keep with the celebrations.”

“If you don’t mind, King Thráin, I would like to speak to my son.” Oropher glanced at Thráin who shrugged nodding.

Thorin opened his mouth to say something but the warning face of his father stopped him. He too stood up and followed his King with growing anxiety in his mind.  Once the door was closed behind Thorin, Oropher turned to his son who was already crying in silence. The look of pure betrayal he was showing was enough to break the heart of the King.

***

“You have to understand…” Oropher began but Thranduil cut him off.

“That you want to keep me away from  _my son._ ” Thranduil spat out in anger.  “I knew your anger at me was great but I never took you for such a cruel father.”

“How dare you, Thranduil? I’ve been trying my very best to cover up your stupid mistake, a mistake that might as well have cost us your head, or our reputation as the Royal family.” Oropher shook his head. “I love Legolas, Thranduil. But you and I know his birth was a mistake.”

“My son is no mistake, father. He is born out of love, whether you want to admit it or not.” Thranduil snapped back.

Oropher rolled his eyes leaning back on his chair, “Love? What use is  _love_  to a King or a Prince? We live in dangerous times, Thranduil. The darkness coming from Dol-Guldur is growing each day. Our forest is being invaded by dark creatures and the fires of Mordor are burning again.  We need to be practical and an alliance with Erebor is our best chance.”

“I thought you hated dwarves.” Thranduil said bitterly.

“I do. They are the reason Doriath fell to its ruin.” Oropher looked around the room then centered his attention on his son. “But I’m also a practical King. Our Kingdoms will become one, and while Thorin may be graced with our longevity, King Thráin would die eventually.”

“And, my son?” Thranduil finally asked.

“I told you, I will send a proper guard for you.” Oropher replied standing up. “He will be with them, but no one, especially not Thorin or Thráin must find out of his true parentage. Understood?”

Thranduil nodded curtly looking at the fireplace as his father left the room. The Prince of the Woodland Realm wiped his tears angrily, screaming in frustration as he stood up throwing the chair to the side. Desperation was trying to fill his heart, thoughts of being trapped and without a chance of ever getting away from the situation guide him directly to King Bard’s room.

The man opened the door surprise at the night visitor, “I thought you said I wouldn’t see you tonight.”

Thranduil smirked licking his lips as his hand made contact with the man’s chest putting him forward he crashed his lips to his hoping Bard would be enough for him to forget about everything else.

***

The announcement was received with great shock and surprise among dwarves, elves and men alike. Everyone was looking perplexed but all of the dignitaries and the guests received the news with great enthusiasm, congratulating both Kingdoms. The oldest of the folks presented in the announcement could only mean one thing, especially since it was the Elven-Prince being engaged to a dwarf. While interracial marriage was not strange, there were not many accounts regarding the union between dwarves and elves.

Among Thorin’s friends only Dwalin and Ori were looking worried with a hint of understanding in their eyes.

Bard, King of Dale, was looking sick at the news, his eyes never once leaving the form of Prince Thranduil who seemed to ignore him for the rest of the celebrations.

By the end of the day, Thranduil watched the committee from the Woodland Realm riding away without looking back. The Elven-Prince watched the darkening sky, welcoming the biting cold from winter, while the horn announcing the end of the Day of Durín resounded in the mountain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter had been edited, thank you to the lovely Nerwen that help me out with the chapter.


	2. No love lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin and Thranduil had a long way ahead of them, while Thráin keeps planning the future ahead. Thank the Valar an unexpected visit may bring answers and relief to Thranduil but, at the same time, may bring many questions to Prince Thorin who is in for a big surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys! I'm glad you like the story so far, so here it's the second chapter that I also hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 2**

**No Love Lost**

Thráin, King Under the Mountain, made sure everyone knew about the engagement between his son and the Prince of the Woodland Realm.

The news traveled as fast as the ravens of the mountain could take them around the kingdoms of Middle Earth. Or at least to those Thráin considered friend or foe. The King of the Dwarves wanted everyone to know of the first union between both: dwarves and elves. He wanted everyone to understand his Kingdom would only grow and become more powerful than it already was. Thráin had considered some of the youngest, or perhaps, those who didn't have wise scholars wouldn't understand why this was such a great event; but the Dwarf King also knew there were few wise and older members of the different Kingdoms who knew about the gift of the Eldar. 

Yes, Thráin had done the impossible. He and only he made the first (and hopefully) last union between Dwarves and Elves a reality.

Thráin had been quite smart, of course. First, he made sure Oropher didn't have a choice and, this was only possible, thanks to the growing darkness in Dol-Guldur. Second, he made sure the Elven-Prince was perfect for the deal because Thráin would not give Thorin away without securing something precious: an heir. And yes, King Oropher had confirmed to him what Thráin's spies knew: Prince Thranduil was capable of producing an heir worthy of Thráin's plans.

Because this was the only thing in Thráin's mind: a worthy heir, someone of elf and dwarf blood he could control and mold into a King of his liking. He wouldn’t tolerate his grandson to be a useless, wimp like Thorin. Oh, No…Thráin had great plans for his Kingdom and this unborn child.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts, Thráin lifted his eyes from the diamonds he had been studying pursing his lips into a sneer.

“Enter.” Thráin returned his attention to the gems, his dark eyes glancing briefly at Thorin before continuing with his close examination.

“You sent for me?” Thorin closed the door behind him, bowing respectfully to his father before approaching him.

Thráin made a sound but, otherwise, didn’t show much interest in his son. For more than forty-five minutes Thorin stood there while his father entertained himself with the newest collection of gems brought from the heart of the mountain. Thorin swallowed getting restless, looking around but never giving in his father’s expectations, he would stand until the King decided to address him.

Finally, after more than an hour of standing up and being ignored, Thorin saw as his father straightened up throwing at him a diamond of the size of a key. Thorin caught the gem in the air, furrowing his brows while glancing at the precious object.

“Where is your fiancée?” Thráin asked dryly, his black eyes gleaming dangerously while he circled his desk to approach his son.

Thorin frowned in distaste looking away while playing with the diamond in his hand, “I don’t know, frankly, I don’t care.”

Thorin never saw the hand of his father until it collided with force against his cheek. He was flabbergasted, his cheek stung at the cheer force of the slap. Thorin lifted his face to see the enrage expression of his father who was staring down on him ready to give him another slap.

“Do not talk to me like that, boy.” Thráin whispered dangerously to his son. “Do you even understand what is going on here? Do you even understand how important is the marriage between you and Prince Thranduil?”

“If it’s so important, father.” Thorin replied with his voice trembling but with a determination born out of the many times he had been subjected to his father’s humiliations. “Then, why don’t you marry him?”

This time around, Thorin was ready for the second slap. The young Prince felt blood coming from the split lip but he faced his father stubbornly.

“You are an idiot. Why did father ever think you could make a fine King? I would never understand.” Said Thráin shaking his head. “If your brother hadn’t died and your sister wasn’t already a Queen in Ered Luin I wouldn’t even bother with you, boy.”

Thorin clenched his fists lowering his gaze but refusing to let the tears forming in his eyes roll down his face. He waited for his father to continue sensing the eyes of the King on him.

“I’ve been hearing you were back to the Red District, back to that whore I bet…” Thráin growled while standing in front of his son. “Look at me when I speak to you.”

Thorin lifted his eyes looking directly into his father’s eyes, the King sneered at Thorin tilting his head while fixing his son’s clothes. The gesture was anything but fatherly, it was a gesture of how much power Thráin had over Thorin and Thorin knew this. The Prince wished for everything to be different, for his mother to still be alive, for his grandfather to still be there…for someone who could stop the madness growing in Thráin.

“You are going to start showing yourself in public with prince Thranduil, you will fuck him or, if you seem incapable of this, at least pretend to be fucking him.” Thráin spoke with warning in his tone, every word was accentuated by a pull of Thorin’s clothes or some rough treatment. "I want everyone knowing you and him are the perfect couple."

“You will then marry him and finally you will produce an heir. A male heir.” Thráin spoke glancing into his son’s eyes.

Thorin frowned with confusion at the last part, he couldn’t hide his perplexity at what his father was asking of him. For a moment, Thráin gauged his son’s expression until realization finally hit him.

“Thorin, Thorin, Thorin…” Thráin recited shaking his head, his lips curling into a mocking smile. “You are so clueless…always the last one to know, always the last one to understand…the weak link in the Line of Durín.”

“I’m not…” Thorin fell silence when his father placed a finger in his lips; the strange glint on the King’s eyes was enough to tell Thorin he better shut up.

“I don’t have the time to explain to you what you should already know." Thráin nodded at the diamond Thorin was still holding on his hand. "You will work on this gem and whatever else you need to make a fine engagement gift. A gift worthy of the Elven-Prince, it's that understood?"

Thorin gritted his teeth closing his hand around the diamond until he hurt his hand. He stared into his father's eyes, behind those dark orbs Thorin only saw coldness with a hint of madness. The Prince knew if he were to say something, if he were to go against the direct order Thráin just gave him the people Thorin loved, his friends, would pay the price of his rebelliousness.

“Yes, sir.” He agreed looking away when his father smirked.

“Good, now, get out of here.”

Thorin bowed turning around and leaving his father’s office as fast as his feet would take him. Thráin shook his head wondering why he was cursed with such a stupid child.

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

It had been more than a week since Prince Thranduil was left behind to be the _honorable guest_ in Erebor.

Thranduil leaned forward with his hands resting on top of the desk located in the small living room given to him. If there was something he was grateful for it was the fact his quarters were worthy off his title. The dwarf King and his son had given him the left wing of the Royal Palace; Thranduil's room was made of a circular chamber where his bed and some furniture occupied the space. There where three doors: one lead to the full bathroom, another to a personal living room and the other to the exit. However, the Elven-Prince had only two windows and those windows were facing a strange darkness, an abyss decorated with crystal on the walls. Thranduil would admit grudgingly the sight wasn't so bad, over all if the sun or the moon were standing at the highest point in the sky,  the moment in which their lights would fall on all the crystals and these would light up the abyss. It was a beautiful sight.

But, this wasn't home and Thranduil was going crazy with all the dinner invitations and the company of certain dwarves. 

It was a fact Thranduil didn't like King Thráin one bit, the dwarf was crude, arrogant and didn't have an ounce of common sense on him. The rest of the Royal council or those close to Thráin would be equally annoying and Thranduil soon discovered with anger and embarrassment those dwarves, those old, ugly dwarves, knew about him. They knew about Thranduil's status among his people as more than a Prince and this mortified Thranduil.

The Elven-Prince also avoided Prince Thorin as much as he avoided him, they didn’t speak nor did they seek each other out.  Of this, Thranduil was pretty grateful, he didn’t dare to think of the day he would have the Prince touch him…Thranduil shivered closing his eyes tightly.

A knock at the door interrupted Thranduil’s darkening thoughts; the elf lifted his face taking deep breaths to calm himself before letting his visitors in. Pleasantly surprise, Thranduil allowed himself the sight of a gently smile when Balin and Orí entered his room. Of all the dwarves in Erebor, only those two had earned Thranduil’s respect. Balin was wise, he was charismatic and was never pushing Thranduil with uncomfortable questions, and the old dwarf was earning himself a place in Thranduil’s limited circle of friends in the mountain. As for Orí, Thranduil was pleasantly surprised to discover not all dwarves were a bunch of ignorant brutes. Orí knew how to read in several languages, he had an extensive knowledge he acquired through the books he was responsible for. Orí had been the first one to approach him, and their first contact had been thanks to a book the younger dwarf recommended the elf. They were the only ones holding Thranduil together while he waited for his son to arrive.

Orí returned the smile shyly with his arms wrapped tightly around a big book; Balin followed him inside the room looking around until his eyes fell on a strange envelope resting on the floor.

“Good morning, Prince Thranduil.”

“Orí, is a pleasure to see you in this fine...morning you say?” Thranduil replied inclining his head. “It is quite difficult to tell the time when I was given a cave instead of a room with access to fresh air.”

Orí winced glancing at Balin then at Thranduil, “You could always ask Prince Thorin…”

“Never.” Thranduil replied coldly, he softened his features when Orí lowered his eyes downhearted. “Please, don’t take it personally. Now, tell me Master Orí, what do you have there?”

Orí’s face lit up as he approached the Elven-Prince, “Prince Thranduil told me he already finished the stories of Durín, I thought, perhaps, this time around you will enjoy a lighter lecture. This is a children's book.”

“Children's book?” Thranduil asked with curiosity, he grabbed the book Orí brought to him and the elf couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you.”

Orí shook his head smiling shyly, Thranduil then turned to Balin who was holding a familiar letter in his hands. Thranduil paled glancing with caution at Balin. The old dwarf for his part had seen enough about the envelope and the coat of arms in the letter to know who was it from.

“I didn’t read it.” Balin finally said Thranduil tensed placing the book on the desk while taking the letter from Balin.

“Thank you.” Thranduil finally mumbled he swallowed uncomfortably.  “He gave it to me before leaving Erebor.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me, Prince Thranduil.” Balin spoke gravely he stared at the Prince with worry written on his features. “However, a word of advice: don’t leave this around. King Thráin may not be as forgiven if he were to find it.”

Thranduil hesitated, he was tempted to tell Balin he didn’t care if the King were to find out about his liaison with King Bard. But Thranduil remembered the heartbroken expression of the man, he remembered the words written on the letter and the final promise Bard did to him: _if you find it in your heart to change your mind, just say the word and I will be here._ The Elven-Prince had learnt the hard way his duties should always come before anything else; he could not risk Bard or thee Woodland Realm because he made a mistake. Besides, whereas Bard felt love, Thranduil only felt friendly affection. 

“Thank you, Master Balin, I am in your debt.”

Thranduil regretted his words as soon as he saw the glint in Balin’s eyes. Orí glanced at the dwarf and elf with curiosity but decided to stay silent while he saw Balin smiling sweetly at Thranduil. 

“Well, if you don’t mind, I will like to collect the debt right now.” Balin smiled without any shame, Thranduil sighed nodding graciously at the dwarf.

“Very well, what can I do for you, Master Balin?”

*****

After almost a week of evading each other, Prince Thranduil and Prince Thorin faced each other with the idea of spending the day together.

This was not an easy situation for either of them.

Thranduil wanted to be everywhere but at the gates of Erebor facing the Dwarf-Prince who would become his future husband. Whether Thorin wanted it or not, he represented the cage in which Thranduil was being forced to live in. Thorin would never understand he was the symbol of Thranduil's missing freedom. Thus, the Elven-Prince glanced with mistrust and reluctance the dwarf who was glancing at him with a darkening expression. Thranduil then noticed the split lip on Thorin's face, he furrowed his brows and was tempted to ask the dwarf how he had come by this wound. However, asking about this would imply Thranduil cared and, he most certainly didn't.

Just as Thranduil was having these thoughts, Thorin found himself glancing at the elf with equally dark thoughts. He glanced at the elf hating what he represented. A cage. A  jail to cut away all possibilities from Thorin to just try and run away. 

“I'm glad you could finally join us, Prince Thranduil.” Thorin spoke boringly. “For a moment there, I thought you decide to become a mole living of coldness and books. Perhaps, intend in becoming the Ice Prince of the brooding land.”

Balin narrowed his eyes at Thorin. Bofur, Bifur and Gloin all tried to cover their laughter with pretenses of having a fit of cough. Thorin knew it was stupid, he didn’t even know what kind of childish impulse stirred him to say such stupid things. But he wasn’t about to be pleasant, not completely. He wasn’t even obliged to do so when Thranduil was looking down on him as if Thorin was less than dirt on the elf’s boot. Thranduil lifted his chin sneering down at Thorin while moving past him.

“No, I think I leave the savage behavior and the brutish ignorance to the likes of you, Prince Thorin.” Thranduil shoot a mocking stare directly to the broke lip of Thorin. “I surely hope the lip is not a proof of your poor battle skills or now I understand why I am being engage to you. Someone should be able to hold his own in battle and be prepared to be a good King.”

Thranduil gave his back to Thorin walking away to the main gate; Balin grabbed Thorin by his elbow stopping the Prince for going after Thranduil. The rest of the company shifted uncomfortably but were soon prompted  to follow the elf by Dwalin while he,  Balin and Thorin engaged in a whispered conversation.

“You promise me you will be civil.” Balin stated sighing tiredly.

“I don’t fucking care about being nice with the fucking prick!” Thorin replied in harsh whispers.

Balin glared at his friend shaking his head, “Thorin, you are to marry him. You just told us your father...”

“Over my dead body, Balin.” Thorin lowered his eyes when he realized what he said.

“Thorin…”

“No, I will play along for a time. But, as soon as I can I will finish this stupid engagement.” Thorin shook his head. “Father is going crazy, I just need some time before asking the council to force father to abdicate.”

“Thorin, I know he has been acting a little strange lately but…” Dwalin trailed off, even if Thorin was the crowned Prince what he was talking about was high treason.

Thorin put his hands on Dwalin and Balin’s shoulders, “Father is not well. Look yesterday…he pretends that I marry the damn elf because he wants a powerful heir. Never mind the both of us are males!”

Thorin shook his head, “Let’s go.”

Thorin was so preoccupied by these thoughts he turned before he could see the strange expression on his friends faces. Dwalin turned to Balin who massaged his temple.

"I can't believe he doesn't really know." Dwalin whispered to his brother, Balin shoot him a glare.

"I didn't either."

"No, but you asked about it. You were also wondering what benefits this union would bring." Dwalin remarked.

Balin shrugged, "True, but my duty is to make sure Thorin doesn't suffer or make any mistakes."

Dwalin palmed his brother on the back, "We will care for him."

“We will. Today, we have to tell him about Prince Thranduil today.” Balin ordered his brother who nodded in agreement.

Thranduil closed his eyes when the fresh air of winter morning brush against his skin, he felt the sun on his face and the voices of the folk around him somehow soothe him. He allowed himself a smile; fluttering his eyes open he faced the reality once more.

Erebor had been growing into one of the most important Dwarven Kingdoms in Middle Earth. The Main Gate was always busy, buzzing with the excitement of the merchants and the folks coming from all around the Kingdom or the city of Dale and even Mirkwood. Thranduil observed dwarves and men, horses, mules and carriages all moving around and expecting the guard’s inspections. Some were looking at him with curiosity, others with mistrust, a few with open resentment.

“Winter usually brings lots of opportunities for trade.” A voice said to Thranduil’s side, the elf turned around lowering his eyes to see a most curious creature shorter than a dwarf.

The small man smile at him, bowing with his right hand positioned on his chest to make the perfect reverence before the Prince.

“Bilbo Baggins, of The Shire, at your service.”

Thranduil opened his eyes quite shocked at this; he glanced at the half-ling with renewed interest just as he, too, bowed down.

“Prince Thranduil of the Woodland Realm at yours.” Thranduil then smiled curiously at the hobbit.

“I am to assume I am the first Hobbit you have seen so far, Prince Thranduil?” The Hobbit, while polite, was not one to keep silent. He measured his words but not his curiosity and this caught Thranduil’s interest almost immediately.

“Yes, Master Baggins, you are. I’ve heard the stories about the Half-lings friends of Lord Elrond of Imladris and Lord Círdan Lord of the Grey Ports.” Thranduil commented amiably. “But I have yet to have the pleasure to meet one.”

“Hn, I see. Well, then I am very pleased to be the first one. There is nothing like having the attention of such an important personality on you at all times.”

Thranduil couldn’t help it; he laughed feeling lighter as he spoke with the Hobbit. Out of the corner of his eyes, Thranduil saw Thorin approaching him along with Dwalin and Balin.  Bilbo turned and his face broke into a huge smile while Thorin seemed to return the gesture.

“Master Baggins, I thought you couldn’t join us today,” Thorin gave the Hobbit a tight hug Bilbo returned rolling his eyes.

“Oh, no. I talk to the boys, I wasn’t about to miss the fun.” Bilbo retorted with his clear eyes glinting amusedly, Thorin scowled glaring at Bofur and the others before turning his eyes to Thranduil.

“Believe me, there is nothing fun about _this.”_ Thorin eyed Thranduil shrugging. “Anyway, I believe we are here for a reason. Let’s go.”

Everyone followed the lead of Thorin who lead the way following a solitary path. Thranduil scowled tempted to just make Thorin ask him nicely to follow him; but a glance from Orí and another coming from Bilbo stopped him. He sighed looking up into the sky before following the dwarves. Orí smiled brightly at him walking beside the Elven-Prince to the right while Bilbo took the left. For a brief moment, Thranduil thought this was a way to keep him watched; however, this thought was soon forgotten as Bilbo and Orí engaged the Elven-Prince in light conversation about the Woodland Realm and the lives of the elves.

As they kept walking, Thranduil would admire the vast lands surrounding Erebor.

He realized while there was a small portion of the population living outside the walls of the mountain, there was a side of the mountain still pretty much deserted. For almost fifteen minutes they walked, hearing the birds around them, watching some dogs running around. Thranduil noticed as well, this place was filled with Royal guards which was strange; Dwarves only used the Royal Guard to keep protect the Royal line or some of the forbidden places for the rest of the common folk.

"Where are we going?" Thranduil finally asked to Orí whose smile was just as bright as it had been when they took the road.

"Oh, you'll see, your Majesty. This place is amazing, and we usually can come over when Thorin comes with us. This part o the land is forbidden for anyone but him."

Soon, the road changed and they entered into a path that was decorated with marble and well-worked stone; Thranduil glanced around and discovered with certain fascination the natural decorations around the road. Small bushes, flowers and lemon trees formed a perfect road leading to the left side of the mountain, far away from the Main Gate or the prying eyes of curious peasants.  They finally arrived to an arched gate protected by two Royal Guards. The dwarves crossed their spears speaking in Khûzdul, what they said Thranduil could not understand but Thorin’s answer was enough for the guards to move away and allow them entrance.

“These are the grazing lands of Erebor.” Orí finally got to explain it to Thranduil. The elf quirked a brow quite amazed by this new knowledge. “We raised our own ponies and…”

“War-goats.” Thranduil whispered reverently.

If his eyes didn’t trick him, he was seeing at least a hundredth of them. All magnificent beast running around freely, this brought a content smile to the Elven-Prince's faces and soon he was thinking about Legolas and how much he would love them. Thranduil stepped forward ignoring, or not really noticing the glances coming from the dwarves or the strange stare Thorin was shooting his way.

Thranduil observed as a group dwarves worked with the animals and to Thranduil’s surprised they seemed rather docile and well-trained.

“I didn’t know Erebor still breed them.” Thranduil whispered approaching the closest one.

The war-goat made a strange noise between a growl and a whine, Thranduil hesitated for a moment speaking softly in elvish. He stretched his hand looking directly into the animals eyes, for the briefest moment Thranduil was lost to the world and Thorin watched him closely.

This would be the first time in which Thorin would see the Elven-Prince he had met on his younger days. The smile Thranduil was wearing was soft, a real smile shinning in his eyes while he approached the war-goat. Thorin followed the movements of the elf, a part of him begging for the goat to scare the elf, another part worrying for the stupid elf’s well-being.

The dwarf trainer raised his eyebrows impressed at the control the elf seemed to have of the situation. He heard the stories, of course, about the elves of the Woodland Realm and their magical abilities. Perhaps, those weren't stories after all.

“ _Elen sila lumenn omentilmo, Mellonamin.”_ The elf whispered softly. The goat hit the ground with his left hooves, tilting his head confusedly at first.

Thranduil stopped. “Peditham hi sui vellyn?”

Thranduil bowed his head waiting. The war-goat lifted his head, the animal moved forward rather fast moving closer to Thranduil.

Balin and Dwalin ran towards the elf, but it was Thorin who arrived first. However their fears were unfounded, the war-goat had approached Thranduil with a playful huff and a lick to the elf’s hand. Thranduil smiled brightly caressing the fine animal with care while chuckling lightly; he glanced at Thorin who was just a few inches away.

“Careful, Prince, someone may think you actually care for anyone but yourself.” Thranduil comment mockingly.

Thorin felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment, he glared at Thranduil who seemed pretty much amused by the sudden leverage he had on the dwarf.

"I could never care for a creature such as you, Prince Thranduil." Thorin commented coldly. "My worry was direct to the war-goat, he may not be as used as me to the dealings of the likes of you."

Thranduil was about to answer but Thorin made a strange sound with his mouth. The war-goat pushed forward making Thranduil lose his balance and fall on his ass. 

This time around the dwarves didn't try to hide their laughter. They laughed while Thorin smirked down at Thranduil who was now being licked by the war-goat. Both of them looked at each other in the eye, animosity was evident there. But Thorin felt a cold satisfaction when he also saw humiliation in the elf's eyes.

“See, Prince Thranduil? No need for you to think I would ever care about such an icy, hideous creature such as yourself. I'm glad my goats can also deal with you in the right manner. _”_

Thorin then left with some of the dwarves following him close behind, all but Bilbo, Orí and Balin.

Thranduil felt his cheeks burn with shame, he clenched his fist in anger while standing up, he went to leave but Orí stopped him biting his lower lip hesitantly.

“P-Please, Prince Thranduil…d-don’t go.”

“I’m afraid, Master Orí, if I am to stay I would probably kill with my bare hands the bane that is Prince Thorin and, while this would bring me great pleasure, I won’t spend a single minute in this forsaken kingdom.”

Thranduil had been wounded, his pride and his dignity had been stump over by the stupid prince and now Thranduil could not unheard the words he had yelled at him or the trick to make him fall.

“Please, Prince Thranduil I know Thorin was…harsh.” Balin said wincing at his words, he could see the anger emanating from Thranduil but he had to give it a try.

“Look, we all know he is an idiot from time to time, but he is a nice friend once you get past all those multiple layers of his.” Bilbo interrupted, his words stopped Thranduil who wondered just who Bilbo was for him to speak about Thorin in such a way.

“The grazing lands are really beautiful and, see? The war-goat seems to like you.” Bilbo pointed to the little fella who was trying to get Thranduil’s attention again. "Ignore Thorin for the time being, Prince Thranduil."

Thranduil was still angered, he still felt embarrassed and indignant about the whole ordeal but Bilbo did have a point. The place was beautiful, and Thranduil would have never thought the dwarves had such a place like this with so many beautiful animals. The Elven-Prince hesitated for a moment, his ass was still hurting and his pride was completely destroyed but the war-goat nuzzled his hand and Thranduil decided he could give his companions a try.

“As long as I don’t have to speak with _him_ …”

Balin and Orí sighed in relief, Thranduil narrowed his eyes catching up with the fact there was _something_ else going on in here. But, he decided, if it involved Thorin he didn’t care at all. So he turned to Bilbo who seemed rather content to have made the elf stay. The Hobbit started talking guiding Thranduil to the place where the goat-trainers were preparing a group of the war-goats and soon Thranduil found himself forgetting about the whole incident.

The rest of the morning was spent watching the war-goat trainers at work. Thranduil would watch them with a wishful expression that wasn't missed by the dwarves or Bilbo. The Prince would smile and sometimes his smile would be sad, almost miserable. No one dare to interrupt him when he was like this; however, there were other times in which he would engage Bilbo and Orí in a soft conversation.

The would spend their time sitting or walking around, always evading the places where Thorin seemed to be working on something. Bilbo would catch Thorin shooting them glances from time to time and the Hobbit would wonder just how much animosity was there in reality. Bilbo had known Thorin since he was a teen, the dwarf had saved his life and since then they had become closest friends. Of all the company, it was Bilbo the one who dare to say he knew how Thorin's heart work...

Bilbo glanced at Thranduil who was, once again, caressing a war-goat. The Elven-Prince was so much different like this, he seemed relaxed. When Bilbo looked back at Thorin he realized the dwarf was watching over Thranduil again. Bilbo shook his head and decided there would be a right time to bring _this_ particular behavior to Thorin later. For now, the Hobbit would watch his best friend closely. 

“I think I’m hungry.” Bilbo mumbled when his stomach growl for the fifth time, he blushed when Thranduil and Orí chuckled.

“Yes, I think we already figure this out, Bilbo.” Orí replied.

“I believe its past midday; perhaps we can go back to the mountain and seek something to eat.” Thranduil proposed looking at Orí then at Bilbo.

“Well, actually…”Bilbo hesitated for a moment before continuing. “Usually, when we come here, Thorin has something prepare in his cottage.”

Thranduil pursed his lips shaking his head, “I do not think having me and _him_ on the same room is such a good idea, Master Baggins.”

Bilbo and Orí thought the same, but when they were about to propose something a guard approached them running, the dwarf bowed deeply to Thranduil who stood up furrowing his brows in question.

“Prince Thranduil, you are needed back in the mountain.” The dwarf said. “Your guard from the Woodland Realm has arrived.”

* * *

* * *

* * *

Legolas Greenleaf stood proudly at the center of the Throne Room in front of Thráin, King Under the Mountain.

The young Prince had been presented as the youngest brother of Prince Thranduil and the apprentice of Glorfindel, the Balrog-Slayer. Thráin glanced with growing curiosity at Legolas, there was something else behind those black eyes, but Legolas could not decipher the meaning of such a stare. He was more worried about Thranduil than anything else.

Glorfindel was at his side sending the greeting so the Elven-King to Thráin who nodded boringly at this. Legolas blue eyes shone with emotion but he held himself beside his teacher. 

"It is a great honor, then, to have such personalities in my Kingdom." Thráin finally exclaimed. "I understand your exhaustion after such a long journey. You may rest for the day, Glorfindel Balrog-Slayer and Legolas, Prince of the Woodland Realm. Tomorrow, my people will greet you like family."

“Welcome then, Glorfindel of Mirkwood.” Thráin said waving with his hand a couple of guards. “Your rooms have been ready for quite some time, you can now follow my dwarves and then Prince Thranduil will meet with you.”

With those final words, the elves were approached by two dwarves while King Thráin directed his attention to other matters. Legolas frowned annoyed, but his expression soon changed when he felt the hand of Glorfindel on his shoulder. He looked up to see the other elf smiled gently at him.

Legolas huffed lifting his chin and following the dwarves who were guiding them to the left wing of the Royal Castle.

The elven delegation was made up of Glorfindel as the Captain and Legolas as the Prince and Glorfindel's apprentice. They had brought with them six more elves and some of the luggage Legolas and Oropher thought Thranduil might had missed. 

Soon the elves found themselves before the arched gate of a magnificent room decorated with marble and oak, there were two different halls, one to the left and another to the right, all of them leading to bedroom, small libraries or small studies. The dwarves along with the other elves started working around placing the luggage in the right places while Glorfindel and Legolas spoke softly to one another. 

They were standing in the middle of a room that was obviously deep into the mountain with not possibilities of fresh air, clear nights or sunny days. The welcoming room was big enough to hold a small gathering and it was decorate to please a Prince. However, Legolas thought it was not normal to be sleeping so deep under ground without having a chance to glance at the sky or feel the cold wind on his face.

Legolas lifted his face when he heard a pair of footsteps approaching the room, he furrowed his brows but his expression soon changed when Thranduil appeared at the door. If it hadn't been for Glorfindel who had a firm hand on the young elf's shoulder, Legolas would have jumped to hug his father. By the longing stare Thranduil was sending his way, Legolas understood his father felt the same.

"My Prince." Glorfindel greeted bowing respectfully at Thranduil.

"My Prince." Legolas replied doing the same, soon the rest of the elves joined and the Dwarves decided to just leave.

Thranduil waited until the door of the home given to him was closed and secure before walking towards Legolas. The elf was soon wrapped in the secure embrace of his father, and never before he thought how much he missed him until this very moment.

"Ada." Legolas whispered.

“Ionneg.” Thranduil whispered softly wrapping his own arms around Legolas.

Glorfindel urged the rest of the elves to leave the room, some of them smiled happily at the reunion before leaving. Glorfindel stood there watching with a gently smile adorning his features. Legolas had been scared and enraged when he found out about his father didn't return from the land of the Dwarves; Oropher had offered a poor explanation but also the promise that Legolas would join his father. This was enough to distract the young elf, but not Glorfindel.

“I miss you so much, Ada! Grandfather…he said you were to stay _here_ in this land of _dwarves_.” Legolas spat out angered. “Why? Why do you have to stay?”

“Father didn’t tell you?” Thranduil questioned, Legolas shook his head wiping away his tears.

“N-No, he said you…you would explain it to me but told me to not reveal…to not…” Legolas went silent lowering his eyes.

A part of Legolas, the more logical one, understood why the secrecy. He had been raised, after all, under the tutelage of the Royal family of the Woodland Realm. Legolas knew his father was special, but he also knew Legolas was born out of his father's recklessness.  In another circumstances, in another time, the fact Thranduil had bear a child would be a blessing. But, not the way he did and certainly not with whom he did it. Thus, Legolas parentage was usually kept a secret and the young elf had lived most of his life hiding and lying about his real parentage.For the well-being of Legolas, Thranduil and the Realm itself this should be kept a secret.

And Legolas hated it. He hated being a secret his grandfather seemed so ashamed of. 

“I am to marry Prince Thorin.” Thranduil tried hard to not show any animosity in his voice and, while Legolas didn’t seem to notice it, Glorfindel quirked a brow at him in wonder.

“What? Why?! Why would you have to...” Legolas moved away from his father shaking his head. “You said no, right? You…You told grandfather this is craziness!”

Thranduil gave his son a half smile, “Sometimes, Legolas, we have to do things for the greater good.”

Legolas swallowed still shaking his head, trying to process what his father told him but unable to understand. He glanced at Thranduil and realized, for now, the important thing was he was with him, that his grandfather wasn’t about to separate them. Thus, Legolas went back to wrap his arms around his father and Thranduil rested assured in the warm comfort of his son.

Once Legolas had gone over his selected room, Thranduil turned to be engulfed in a warm hug by Glorfindel.

“How are you feeling?” Glorfindel asked while eyeing the Elven-Prince carefully.

“Tired, stressful, I want to strangle the stupid dwarf.” Thranduil finally said letting go of everything he had been holding the whole week.

“Which one?”

“All of them, but specially Thorin.”

Glorfindel pursed his lips looking at the hall where Legolas had disappeared moments ago, the elf then turned to Thranduil giving him a sympathetic stare.

“My heart beats in sympathy for you, my friend. But…”

“You agree to this union?” Thranduil asked with a hint of disbelief in his voice.

Glorfindel tilted his head scratching the back of his neck, “Something tells me, Thranduil, this won’t be as bad as it seems right now.”

“Then, why don’t you marry the freaking dwarf?!” Thranduil whispered angrily.

“Oh, you know why. You know why you were chosen and you know why this union it is blessed whereas the one with you and Haldir…”

Thranduil recoiled with an expression of pure pain on his face, Glorfindel slumped his shoulders placing a soothing hand on his friend. Thranduil lifted a hand moving away with pain piercing through his heart. Of course he knew…he knew why his love for Haldir had been cursed whereas his prison with Thorin was being blessed.

“Did father tell you to convince me, Glorfindel?”

“Don’t , don’t do this, Thranduil. You know he didn’t.” Glorfindel shrugged. “I really believe something good will come out of this, if you give it the chance.”

“I promise myself I would prefer dead before…” Thranduil trailed off shooting Glorfindel a stubborn stare.

“Careful, Thranduil or you will found the heavens hearing your clamor.”

“I can’t marry the dwarf.” Thranduil said again, tiredly, resigned.

“I know.” Glorfindel replied. Thranduil turned around and decided to spend the rest of the day with his son, everything else could be forgotten while he was there.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Night had fallen with cold winds and threatening sounds of a storm.

Thorin sat by the fire on hi cottage hearing his friends singing merrily while enjoying ale and beer. Bilbo sat beside him chuckling softly while Bofur and Gloin sang out of tune. 

The Prince smiled as well, his mind thinking about the production of the day. He was quite happy as how everything had gone with the war-goats, although he was still worrying over two or three that seemed completely stubborn to be trained. Thorin lowered his gazed when his mind play some trick on him bringing the memory of Thranduil smiling at the war-goat. The Prince shifted uncomfortably shaking the memory away while raising his head, just then he noticed everyone was quite and their eyes were on him.

"What?"

"You know what, Thorin." Bilbo was the one to speak. "What happen to you? what did you father do this time?"

Thorin glanced at Bilbo then at the rest of his company. The friends his father despise, all but Dwalin and Balin, who seemed to be useful tools for a future King. Thorin knew his father would never understand why he was ready to give his life for each and every single dwarf in the room. And the Prince didn't care, these friends his father would and could not take away from him. They were here for Thorin, not his title.

"I have a disagreement with father." Thorin replied. "About my engagement to Prince Thranduil."

Bilbo pursed his lips, Orí furrowed his brows shifting nerviously for a moment before deciding to speak.

"I...I know it's not ideal, Prince Thorin." Orí said softly, Thorin gave the young dwarf a half-smile. "But, surely you understand how...how lucky you are to have such a blessing coming from the elves."

The room went suddenly silent with everyone looking over at Orí as if he had grown another head. Everyone but Dwalin and Balin, of course, who were shooting nervous tares at one another. 

"I'm sorry, Orí. But, this isn't a blessing, is a cursed." Thorin replied. "This is just another of father's fits of madness!"

"What do you mean?" Bilbo asked worriedly.

"Well, he thinks Thranduil and I will give him a grandson." Thorin shook his head chuckling incredulously. "I mean, it's just plain stupid."

"Your father seems to have lost his marbles, I give you that." Bofur commented. "No offense, the elf is kinda good looking but I don't think he is _that_ good."

Everyone seemed to be laughing but their laughter soon died of when they realized Orí, Balin and Dwalin weren't laughing at all.

Orí furrowed his brows looking around him then at Thorin, "I'm sorry, Master Thorin, but their ignorance I understand, but I always thought you knew."

"Hey!" Some of the dwarves protested at the indirect insult, but Thorin remembered something.

The dwarf Prince remembered what his father had said, he had mocked Thorin because of his ignorance. 

"Orí, tell me what you know." Thorin spoke firmly glancing at Orí who suddenly felt nervous about everyone's attention on him.

"My Prince..." Orí hesitated for a moment. "If I tell you this and, apparently, if I tell this to all of you, you have to promise me something."

Thorin opened his eyes quiet surprised, the rest of the dwarves were just as shocked for they could see Orí was talking seriously. For a moment, Thorin looked half-amuse, half-annoyed. The Prince didn't know if simply ordering Orí to tell him everything or if just satisfy his curiosity about what made Thranduil so special for his father to want to marry Thorin to him.

"Very well, Orí, what do we have to promise you." Thorin finally said.

"You will not make fun or do anything inappropriate around Prince Thranduil."

Once again, Orí left everyone in the room shocked. Dwalin for his part looked impress, he crossed his arms watching the events with growing amusement just like Balin who was starting to see the potential in the young lad.

"You know? When you say something like this it makes it impossible to promise that?" Bofur commented. "I mean, this only means the information is really worth of a good laugh."

Orí glared at Bofur shaking his head, "You will have to promise me or I won't say anything."

The situation seemed suspicious, Thorin was starting to think this was more than having information about the elf and more about knowing what he was getting himself into. The Prince stopped Bofur would a glare, turning to Orí nodding.

"You have my word, as your Prince Orí, that i won't make fun of him." Orí nodded grateful at the Prince turning to the others who did the same.

Orí sighed biting his lower lip before speaking, "The reason he is being engage to you, Prince Thorin, is because he is what the elves called an omega."

The room went silent for a long time, many of the dwarves shoot each other confusing stares but it was Bilbo who was starting to understand. The Hobbit turned to Dwalin and Balin opening his eyes in realization.

"You two knew?" Bilbo asked before anyone else could speak.

Dwalin shifted uncomfortably nodding, "It's my duty. I'm the second in command in the spy network for a reason, Bilbo."

"Wait, he knew what? I still don't understand why the ruckus about this." Gloin intervened.

"I heard about this, but I thought it was a legend." Bilbo said incredulously. "If Prince Thranduil is an Omega then, that means he can bear children."

Bilbo's words unleashed exclamations of disbelief, laughter and so on. Everyone was so busy fighting or discussing and trying to teach Bilbo how babies came to the world, no one noticed the pale complexion of their Prince. No one really noticed the sheer panic in his dark eyes or the sudden realization of what was expected of him and Thranduil.

For the very first time, ever since he met with the elf and the engagement was announced Thorin felt sympathy for Thranduil and the situation the both of them were in.

 

 

 

 

 


	3. After the Storm...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything seems like a game in which Thorin and Thranduil would have to decide if they put their differences aside and start working together. Thranduil starts seeing a whole new side of Thorin while Thorin may have some idea as to why he seems so angry with the Elf.

**Chapter 3**

**After the storm…**

That night Thorin didn’t rest.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the game unfolding right in front of him. A game of power and politics where Thorin and Thranduil were mere pieces for the Kings to play with; Orí had revealed a truth about the Elves most Dwarves inside Thorin’s inner circle ignore. There was laughter and many jokes but, in the end, everyone understood just how bad and how cruel destiny could be with the beautiful people of Middle-Earth.

Of course, the revelations didn’t change Thorin’s willingness to marry the blast elf. Thranduil was a pompous ass, he believed himself above Thorin always speaking superior and all-knowing to him. There was no way Thorin would ever even think on joining with the elf. But now, now he understood a little more why Thranduil seemed more hostile than him; it wasn’t an excuse, but Thorin understood. If he was capable of bearing children and he was sold to, apparently, be a breeding stock for both Kingdoms, then Thorin would be hostile as well.

Thorin leaned against the windowsill, the cold wind of winter brushed against his face while he observed the valley spreading out in the distance. He was trying very hard to find a way out, to break this engagement but he was trapped.

_“It is said Prince Thranduil has inherited the arts of his grandmother. He can extend a protective magic making her Kingdom impenetrable to the enemy, this and the fact he is capable of bearing children may be some of the reasons King Thráin allowed the union.”_

They haven’t discussed anything else after this, the conversation had changed of tone and soon everyone was back to the foolish stories and the recent gossip of local lives in Erebor. But Thorin didn’t forget and his mind played the words Orí spoke over and over. Thorin turned around grabbing his cloak with the intention of going to the library, he would find out whatever he could about Thranduil and then, then he would have a private chat with Dwalin about what was really going on in the outside world.

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

 

“There he is! My future son-in-law!”

Everyone in the dining room turned to the door where Prince Thranduil appeared followed close behind by Glorfindel and Legolas. Thráin sat proudly at the head of the table shooting a warning glance to Thorin who promptly stood up from his chair and indicated with a gesture of his hand the chair right beside him. The Dwarf prince glanced at Thranduil and for the briefest moment, Thranduil saw something different gleaming in those black eyes.

“Prince Thranduil.” Thorin said as politely as he could while putting the chair away for the elf to sit down.

Thranduil tensed but bowed his head acting his part of the honorable guest. The table had been arranged so, to Thráin’s left some noble Dwarves were sitting down ready to eat and on the King’s right sat his son along with his fiancée and the Elf’s companions. The Dwarves watched the scene with growing amusement as the tall Elf sat down allowing Thorin the chivalrous gesture with the chair. Legolas and Glorfindel sat on their own but they sensed a tension between both princes, the young Elf shot a worry glance at his master who gave a short shake of the head. Of what just happened they would talk at another time.

Thráin made sure to never stare away from his son, Thorin could feel the weight of his father’s eyes on him as he tried to be polite and attentive to the Elven-Prince. As if the pressure of his father wasn’t enough, Thorin couldn’t help but remembered the conversation he held with his friends the night before. What Orí had revealed about the Elves had left Thorin’s company speechless and, while jokes were made and conversation turned weird at some point, Thorin couldn’t help but think about what it really meant for him and Thranduil.

“I don’t believe Thorin has met our new guests.”

Thráin suddenly said bringing his son back from his conflicted thoughts. Thorin turned to stare at the tall blond sitting beside Thranduil and then at the youngest one, Thorin blinked a couple of times noticing this was the first time he could actually say the Elf narrowing his eyes at him was _young._

“I can’t say I have, father.  Yesterday, my fiancée want to meet his kin in private, I thought it was my duty to allow him this meeting.” Thorin replied glancing at his father then back to the Elves, out of the corner of his eyes he saw Thranduil trying not to glare at him.

“That is correct, your Highness.” Glorfindel leaned forward pressing his right hand to his chest. “My name is Glorfindel and I am the Captain of the guard of Prince Thranduil, and this young elf is my apprentice and the second in line of the Throne of Mirkwood, Prince Legolas Greenleaf. We are at your Majesties services.”

There was politeness in their words but the Elves didn’t stand up and Thorin didn’t show any sign of this bothering him at all.  However, Thorin did send a curious glance at Legolas trying to remember if, perhaps, he had forgotten to ask or hear about a second Prince of the Woodland Realm. He couldn’t remember though, and he promised himself to ask Dwalin about this as soon as he could.

“It seems as if we have great personalities around us.” Thorin nodded his head turning again to Glorfindel. “Pardon me if I got this wrong but, aren’t you Glorfindel the Balrog-Slayer?”

Glorfindel lifted a brow at Thorin nodding, “I am, My Lord.”

“Well, I will have you telling me of these adventures when breakfast is over then.” Thorin nodded impressed. “Finally someone interesting to talk to.”

Thranduil was tempted to roll his eyes but contain himself not giving in Thorin’s provocations, the Dwarf from his part tried to gauge the reaction from Thranduil, his lips curving into a smile when he realized the Elf was slightly tense.

“It would be my pleasure.” Glorfindel finally replied glancing at the interaction with some perplexity.

Thráin scowled a little at the interaction he then turned to the servants waving his hand impatiently.

“Well, now that we’re over with the pleasantries and we’re all here, let’s eat!” The food was brought fast, with golden goblets being filled with fruit wine and the dishes filled with eggs and bacon and bread.

The rest of the breakfast was done in a relatively calm atmosphere, with Thráin engaging his kin in conversations in Khûzdul ignoring his son and the Elves. Thranduil glanced at his breakfast; the tension hadn’t left him all through the meal. In the mind of the Elf this was a big act, something orchestrated to show control and power. Thranduil grabbed his goblet waving his hand slowly while watching the clear liquid turned over and over in the cup.

“Where are you planning on taking your fiancée today, Thorin?” Thráin’s voice broke Thranduil’s distraction; the Elf lifted his head to watch at the King then at his son.

For the very first time, Thorin seemed quite happy. The Dwarf turned to Thranduil smirking with a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“I was thinking he might want to go back to the grazing lands.” Thranduil glared at Thorin while the Dwarf continued speaking as if he hadn’t noticed this. “He enjoyed his visit so much yesterday; I was thinking he might want a repeat performance.”

“Such a noble gesture, _dear.”_ Thranduil was trying to sound charming but his 'dear' came with a little warning. “But, I do not know if I should cut in the training of you and your animals, I heard Master Orik was making so much progress with _you_.”

This time around it was Thorin the one glaring, “What can I say, _love_ , I enjoy watching you take the rightful place for a Prince of your importance. You look so good at my feet.”

Thranduil tightened his hold on the goblet remembering the fall and the laughter from the Dwarves; he soon found himself on staring contests with Thorin. The rest of the table was either ignoring them, they didn’t comprehend what both Princes were talking about or, like Thráin and Glorfindel, understood too much and frowned upon the childish quarrel.  Thorin and Thranduil were far too gone glaring at one another while wearing fake, sweet smiles.

“Why to the grazing lands, Thorin?” Thráin finally interrupted the Princes. “I would have thought you will take your future husband to other places.”

Thorin shrugged, “I still have duties, father. I was thinking I could teach my fiancée about them. We’ve been having some troubles with some of the goats. Besides, you should see how he mingles in nature with them, he falls down every time.”

Thráin furrowed his brows glancing at Thorin for a long time until he finally nodded, accepting the explanation and finding it reasonable. Thranduil narrowed his eyes at the Dwarf but whatever complain or response he might have was stopped by a kick under the table courtesy of Glorfindel.

“Very well, you should not forget, though, there are more important things to work on and to show our guests in Erebor.” Thráin said with a hint of command in his voice. “And, don’t forget today we will give a huge feast in honor of our honorable guests.”

“Yes, father.”

* * *

* * *

* * *

Thorin stood at the Gates of Erebor wearing his riding gear, he watched to the bridge joining the mountain with the different roads coming from Middle Earth. His thoughts were a mixture of his duties as a Prince and the problems hunting him at the moment.

A child Dwarf came to him running with a huge grin on his face brandishing a wooden sword at him. Thorin couldn’t help but smile at the youngster who defied him to a battle of honor or a coin to buy sweets at Mister Baggins patisserie. Thorin laughed lifting his hand in mock defeat.

“No, please, noble warrior, I surrender.” The Prince said seeking inside his pockets while the little Dwarf smiled incredulously at the Prince.

“You better do, noble warrior!” The child said puffing out his chest while glancing playfully at Thorin.

Thorin laughed and soon he was distracted by a female Dwarf coming at him running fast with big, open eyes. The child suddenly looked down biting his lip while wincing when his mother reached him with an angered and worry exclamation.

“Telchar!” The female Dwarf approached her son with horror on her face. “My Prince!”

The she-dwarf bowed deeply at the Prince while trying to grab her son, “I’m so sorry, My Prince. I’m sorry he bothered you…”

“No, no please…” Thorin lifted his hands shaking his head, he kneeled down to the little Dwarf who was now looking guiltily at Thorin and then at his mother. “You have a strong name, Telchar.”

The child smiled shyly at Thorin, the Prince put three silver coins from his pocket and gave them to the kid.

“Here, the payment for a fight well fought.” Thorin winked at the kid whose hand closed tightly around the coins. “You better tell Master Baggins to share with you his famous blackberry pie, it is the best there is and it’s my favorite.”

“Yes, Prince Thorin.” The kid mumbled happily, his mother however was looking paled; she looked around shaking her head.

“My Prince, No! I can’t…” The she-dwarf started but Thorin stood shaking his head.

“No, please, I insist.” Thorin ruffled the kid’s hair. “He is a brave warrior, and warriors need sweets to grow stronger.”

The Dwarf felt tears in her eyes; she nodded gratefully while blessing the name of Thorin and wishing him a great fortune. Thorin looked down when the female gave him a brief hug and the little dwarf did the same, with words of blessing and gratefulness both of them walk away leaving Thorin with longing in his heart.

The Dwarf Prince never noticed the form of the Elven-Prince watching him from afar, Thranduil had arrived to see enough and now he was facing a side he never thought possible coming from Thorin, or any Dwarf of the Royal family for that matter.

“He loves kids.” Thranduil jerked around surprise to see Orí there smiling at him.

“He is not a complete brute, then.” Thranduil shoot a quick glance at Thorin who was now looking back with a scowling face. “Even if he looks like one.”

Orí pursed his lips shaking his head, the young Dwarf glanced at Legolas who approached Thranduil while placing a single hand on Thranduil’s forearm.

“Prince Thranduil?” Legolas asked curiously at his father who had stopped so suddenly, Thranduil looked down at his son smiling. “Are you well?”

“Yes, never mind. Let’s follow Prince Thorin, I know you will like this visit.”

Legolas made a face shaking his head, “I don’t think so, my Prince. You are right, that Thorin seems to be nothing else but a common brute.”

“A common brute that happens to be a Prince and your Prince’s fiancée, Legolas.” Legolas winced when the hand of Glorfindel squeezed his shoulder lightly. The Captain glared at Thranduil then at Legolas. “My dear Lords, please, why don’t we put differences aside and enjoy of this fine day. Am I right, Master Orí?”

Orí blushed at being addressed by the Captain, he nodded smiling brightly at the elves, “C-Captain Glorfindel is right. I know he can be difficult, but once you know him he is as soft as melting snow.”

Thranduil and Legolas sighed at the same time and for the briefest moment Orí thought of how much alike both Princes were.  His thoughts of course were soon forgotten when Legolas and Thranduil started walking and talking among them.

As they approached Thorin, the Dwarf Prince got to detail the young elf walking beside Thranduil. His hair was as blond as Thranduil’s, he was a head shorter than the Elven-Prince, and his completion was thin with long limbs and brilliant blue eyes. Thorin remembered him; the same blond Elf who had accompanied Thranduil on that first meeting, at that time…well, at that time Thorin would have never guessed they were brothers. If there was something Thorin remembered very well from that first encounter was how relaxed Thranduil look, the smile adorning his face was soft and honest, his eyes were shining brightly as much as he was exuding an ethereal light. The Dwarven-Prince remembered something inside him stirred making his knees tremble and his chest tightened when he found himself under the attention of Thranduil.

Prince Thorin ignored this memories, though. Thranduil didn't remember their first meeting and Prince Legolas was now looking back at him, those blue eyes reflect mistrust but there was also a hint of curiosity there, innocent curiosity born out of youth more than anything else. The youth reflecting in Legolas' eyes was the source of the many questions burning to be asked, but Thorin decided standing at the Gates of Erebor wasn’t the right place to ask any of them.

“Glad you could join me, Prince Thranduil, Prince Legolas, and Captain Glorfindel.” Thorin fixed his leather glove turning around. “Let’s go, the others are already at the camp waiting for me.”

“Where are we going?” Legolas asked walking beside Thranduil, Thorin glanced at the young elf guiding them down the road. “You told me I would enjoy this, why?”

Thranduil shifted sharing a smile with his son, “There are some private lands around the mountain. Apparently, Prince Thorin here is capable of breed and train war-goats.”

“War-goats? You mean it?” Legolas couldn’t help the excitement from tingeing his voice, Thorin raised his brows surprised at the excitement he perceived from the blond, Legolas moved to walk beside Thorin who was suddenly tense and suspicious. “Is Ad…Brother right?”

Thorin furrowed his brows when Legolas lowered his eyes with a tinge of red coloring his cheeks, Thorin glanced back but Thranduil and Glorfindel were pretending to not have heard the almost slip from Legolas.

“If you mean by us having a flock of goats then, yes, he is right.” Thorin realized Legolas was being truthful about his enthusiasm and with a soft smile he continued. “They are the best there is in Middle Earth. And the only surviving ones.”

Glorfindel and Thranduil both relaxed a little when it was evident Thorin hadn’t caught the almost slip from Legolas, soon both Elves found themselves smiling when, reluctantly, Legolas started making question and getting excited about the war-goats.

“I read about the battle of Moria, when Durin the Deathless conquered for the first time Khazad-dûm.” Legolas spoke with longing in his voice. “My great-grandfather wrote about this huge war-goat! Huge even for an Elf, and how Durin the Deathless faced the Balrogs of Morgoth and the orcs to conquer the mines; he even draw the battle and it was amazing. I also read about other noble war-goats that helped the Line of Durin in their time of need.”

And thus, soon Thorin and Legolas were speaking excitedly about the legends of old, war-goats and how Thorin was planning on training them.

“ _Excellent, my son is betraying me by bonding with the stinky dwarf._ ” Thranduil spoke in elvish to Glorfindel who chuckled lightly.

“ _You don’t believe that.”_ His friend replied, Thranduil watched as his son placed his hand on the hilt of his sword while looking over at Thorin.

While it was true Legolas was speaking animatedly about the goats, there was hint of mistrusts in his eyes, and his shoulders were still tense as much as his posture.  Legolas might have found the topic interesting, but his mind was still thinking of the Dwarven-Prince as the one who would marry his father.

“ _No, I don’t. I didn’t know they breed war-goats in Erebor.”_ Thranduil and Glorfindel entered the grazing lands and before they joined Thorin and Legolas Thranduil turned to Glorfindel. “ _We need to talk, you and me, because I need to know everything father has been hiding from me.”_

Glorfindel nodded but didn’t say anything else, he knew Thranduil would demand answers sooner or later and it would be better if the Elven-Prince knew what they were facing as a Realm and as inhabitants of the lands of Rhovanion.

Soon they arrived to a space in which four particular stubborn war-goats were giving the dwarf-trainers some trouble. Legolas had stopped his interaction with Thorin to join his father and Glorfindel, it was almost impossible for him to contain his excitement and Thranduil felt a tug at his heart at the sight of his happy son and his inability to behave like a father to him.

“This place is amazing, Prince Thranduil.” Legolas said looking away. “I think this is the only place I like in Erebor so far .”

“This is the only place we have seen so far, Legolas.” Glorfindel reminded his student; Legolas crossed his arms much like his father while lifting a petulant chin to the sky, his blue eyes shining with bad contained emotion.

“I just want all of us to go back to Mirkwood.” Legolas glanced at his father, Thranduil sighed in resignation before changing his expression for one of mild interest.

“Master Balin, it’s good to see you again.” Thranduil bowed his head to the white-haired dwarf.

“Prince Thranduil, the pleasure is all mine, believe me.” Balin glanced at the other Elves delaying his eyes on Legolas, for a moment there was a twitch in his eyebrow but soon Balin was looking back at Thranduil.

“I’m glad there is more of your kin in the mountain. I know how much you must have missed them.” Balin then bowed with a smile on his face. “Balin, son of Fundin, at your service.”

“Glorfindel, Captain of the Royal Guard of Prince Thranduil, at yours.”

“Legolas Greenleaf, apprentice of Captain Glorfindel and Second Prince of the Woodland Realm.”

Legolas returned the gesture with as much seriousness as he could muster; he soon discovered he was being surrounded by a group of Dwarves, all of them shooting him strange, curious stares.

“I didn’t know King Oropher had another son.” Balin commented confusedly. “But, it is a pleasure to have you here Prince Legolas as much as to have Glorfindel Balrog-Slayer, if I am not mistaken.”

“You’re not. I see my reputation precedes me.” Glorfindel replied smiling gently at the Dwarves.

“Oh, they were uncultured creatures before Orí and me contributed to their education.” Glorfindel looked down to discover a strange creature talking up at him, the Dwarves protest but Bilbo merely smile cheekily at them while winking at Thranduil who returned the smile.

“A Hobbit! So far from the Shire?” Glorfindel opened his eyes shocked. “This is the most incredible and pleasant surprise I have so far.”

“Oh, you know of me, well, my kin. Bilbo Baggins, at your service.” Bilbo smiled quite pleased at how fast Glorfindel had recognized him, the Elf nodded marveled by him while Legolas shoot him inquisitive stares.

“Master Baggins, it is always a pleasure to me to meet a Hobbit. “ Glorfindel retorted quite happily. “If I must say it, I met Old Took when he was still trying to break havoc on the Tuckborough.”

“You meet my grandfather?”

“Grandfather?!” Glorfindel was even more shocked after this revelation and soon he and the Hobbit were engaged in a strange conversation about old ancestors and Hobbit adventures.

Thranduil frowned completely baffled by this and Legolas was much in the same state as his father. The both of them looked at each other and share the same amusing smile until one of the Dwarves present made sure the Elves didn’t forget about them.

“So, how old are you, lad? You look…strangely young, for an elf.” Bofur had always been one to speak his mind out loud, for this reason his friends usually put him up front when something was bothering them. The dwarf would make the questions before he could censure himself or think about formalities.

Legolas tensed glancing icily at Bofur; Thorin lifted his dark eyes to Thranduil who seemed rather fascinated by something ahead of him. Only Bombur and Balin shook their heads in disapproval whereas the others glanced curiously at Legolas wondering the very same thing.

Thranduil was looking away wondering what he could do or say to protect his son. He knew the signs of youth were evident in Legolas, he was still growing up and his eyes and some of his behavior was that of a young adult. While Legolas was tall and he seemed like a twenty-five-year old, he was still but an adolescent in Elvish years.Thranduil lowered his eyes to see Legolas facing the Dwarves flustered at the attention, the Elven-Prince then turned his attention to Thorin and soon found himself looking inside those black eyes. Thorin seemed rather interested in knowing the answer to Bofur's question, the Dwarven-Prince curled his lips in a single smile and Thranduil scowled at him seeing in that smile mock instead of sympathy. 

“Because I am young,  _dwarf_ .” Legolas put his hand on the hilt of his sword while speaking choosing his words with care. “I am but twenty-five years old.”

“How curious, I’m older than you, which is strange. Although…” Bofur scratched his beard tilting his head. “I mean, if you consider the race of men…”

“I’m an elf! My age is my business anyway.” Legolas replied pursing his lips.

“I see rudeness is a family trait.” Thorin decided it was time for him to participate in the discussion. “Aren’t elves taught to be more polite? More so if they are the Princes of their Realm? Although, I could no blame young Legolas here if his teacher on these matters was Prince Thranduil; in which case I feel sorry for Prince Legolas.”

Legolas opened his eyes wide; he went to speak but his father beat him to it.

“We are only polite with those who earned our respect and deserved to be treated as more than simple brutes, Prince Thorin.” Thranduil took a step forward facing Thorin. “Since you and your companions sans Master Balin, Master Orí and Master Baggins, seem to have been raised by a pack of wild wolves, I don’t see why we should bother with politeness.”

Bofur and the others were actually watching the sudden confrontation open mouthed, Bofur was about to apologize with Legolas trying to make the elf understand he was just asking out of curiosity, he hadn’t meant to offend him. But Bofur didn’t get his chance and now Thorin and Thranduil seemed rather entertained by their bickering. Legolas furrowed his brows watching from one Prince to the other equally baffled not knowing how wise would it be to interrupt. Thorin was throwing different insults all of them hidden behind well-said words, but it wasn’t until he mentioned he would prefer to be joined to Prince Legolas instead of Thranduil that Thranduil really lost it.

“I still don’t see why marry me to someone like you, your dead brother or even a cavern troll would be preferable to my fate being tied to a scurvy, brute Dwarf like yourself. The great mistake in the Line of Durin.”

Time stood still while Thorin pointed a trembling finger to Thranduil; no one really understood when their small quarrel started growing in intensity but everyone was worried about the outcome. Glorfindel soon joined the rest of the Dwarves and Legolas but he was just as shocked at how much anger seemed to be running between Thorin and Thranduil.

“You are nothing more than an elf who thinks he had everything, using only poisonous words on others and acting as if he was better than most.” Thorin sneered at Thranduil, his lips curving unpleasantly. “Your attitude is just a sign of weakness and insecurity…tell me Prince Thranduil…”

Everyone around the two Princes tensed, but Balin was especially cautious for Thorin was smirking nastily at the elf who was glaring at Thorin with open animosity.

“Is this why you seem to share your bed with anyone who pays the right price?”

“ _Ada! Û, Daro!_ ” Legolas jumped in before either Prince could throw the first punch.

Thranduil felt his son trembling, his eyes filled with unshed tears looking at him disbelievingly. The Prince suddenly understood what was about to happen, what he was about to do to Thorin. Tension was still palpable, but Thorin had also stopped on time surprised at how firm and strong Legolas hold of him was. The Dwarven-Prince glanced at his companions and then at Legolas and he realized every single one of them was scared. Why did he let this situation get the best of him? Why was he so ready to start another fight with the Elf? But, what confused Thorin even more, what had him so overwhelm was how hurt he felt whenever Thranduil rejected him, insult him and downright despise him. It shouldn't matter, it shouldn't hurt because, Thorin had learnt a long time ago that if he hurt he cared, and he couldn't allow himself to even feel a fraction of affection for the Elf because, as he discovered on their first encounter, it would bring only pain, suffering and oblivion.

“ _I’m sorry.”_ Thranduil spoke in elvish to Legolas straightening up looking away from everyone. “I think we better go.”

Legolas looked crestfallen; he glanced at the war-goats with longing but nod ready to follow his Prince and his Captain. It was then Thorin remembered, he remembered what Orí told them about Thranduil, about his real fate as a Prince; whether he liked it or not, something inside him stirred making him lowered his defenses.

“You don’t have to.” Thorin spoke clearly looking directly into Thranduil’s eyes, he shifted rolling his eyes as he spoke. “I’m sorry, I think both of us…we…Look, you don’t have to go, stay.”

Thorin crossed his arms stubbornly, he felt frustrated at his inability to express what he really meant. Thranduil quirked a brow at him, for the very first time he felt like gifting Thorin a real smile, but he contained himself.

“I see there is wisdom in you.” Thranduil sighed nodding when Glorfindel and Legolas glared at him. “I…apologize as well. I also believe we would like to stay.”

Thorin nodded briefly turning around with a hand wiggling nervously to his side and the other scratching the back of his neck. Everyone seemed to let out a sigh of relief while the mood seemed to lightened up a little. Legolas asked permission with his eyes and soon Thranduil smiled indulgently at him.

“Wait! Prince Thorin, you promise you will show me how to mount a war-goat!”

Glorfindel stood beside his Prince while making sure to show his discomfort to him, Thranduil sighed before shrugging.

“You can’t blame me.”

“Of course I can. You know better than to give in this senseless fights."  Glorfindel put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “There is going to be time to talk about this. Come, we better go watch because, I’m afraid, Prince Thorin doesn’t understand how tiresome an adolescent Elf is.”

Bilbo watched as the rest of the company along with the Elves left, he grabbed Orí before he could join the others and the Dwarf blinked puzzled at Bilbo.

“Orí, let me ask you something.” Bilbo made sure they were alone for he knew what he was about to ask could bring more trouble than it was probably necessary.

“Yes, Master Baggins, what is it?”

“Ada…isn’t that the elvish word for father?”

Orí stood completely tensed aware of Bilbo’s sharp eyes on him, Orí hoped no one else understood the slip from Prince Legolas. Orrí had noticed how alike Thranduil and Legolas were, but it was the small details and the slip from Legolas what confirmed Orí's suspicions. As he glanced at Bilbo, he realized he wasn't the only one noticing this, Orí was already thinking of Thranduil as a friend and, whatever his reasons to keep Legolas' parentage hidden, Orí could not betray him. The Dwarf swallowed staring down then turning to Bilbo hoping the Hobbit understood what he was trying to do.

“No, Master Baggins, that wasn’t the word for father.” Orí finally said but there was silent understanding between the Hobbit and the Dwarf, Bilbo smiled sadly squeezing Orí’s forearm.

“Very well, I got them mix then.” Bilbo winked at Orí but there was worry shining in his eyes. Both of them knew what it could mean if the others were to find out that Prince Thranduil was Legolas father; thus, they made a silent promise of keeping the secret for as long as Prince Thranduil deemed it necessary.

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

 

Legolas was fast asleep by the time Thranduil and Glorfindel finally sat down in Thranduil’s personal living room. The day had been strange, with Legolas bonding with Thorin and the Dwarves acting specially soft and playful with Legolas. Thranduil soon realized while Legolas tried to behave like a Prince of the Woodland Realm, he was happy he could give in some childish behavior once in a while.

Thranduil had been surprised at how easily the Dwarves accepted Legolas in their inner circle, teaching the Elf about war-goats, riding and other things.  Orí and Bain had told Thranduil it was mainly because this was the first time Dwarves met a young elf, someone who regardless of his height and origin could behave like a youngster from time to time. Thranduil found his heart warming up at the sight of Legolas happiness and whatever animosity he held against Thorin, Thráin or even the Mountain was forgotten, if only for a single day.

Glorfindel handed Thranduil his cup filled with wine while the Captain of the guard sat down, the both of them contemplate the fire coming from the fireplace for a long time just enjoying the quiet coming from the mountain.

“Are you going to tell me what that scene between you and Prince Thorin was?”  Glorfindel faced Thranduil sipping from his cup while the Elven-Prince sighed.

“I don’t know, the dwarf makes my blood boil and…he is not even that rude.” Thranduil winced. “I mean, when he is not speaking to me.”

“Hn, yes, well, my friend talking to you is never easy.” Glorfindel shared a smile with Thranduil before continuing.

“I just…I hate what he represents, it is difficult for me to see Thorin and not a Dwarf, not the fierce eyes of those who entered Doriath long ago and destroy our home…” Thranduil clenched his fist while glancing with anger at the fire. “It is difficult to see him as nothing else than my future jailer.”

Glorfindel could not find the right words to contradict Thranduil. He understood the mistrust in his friend’s heart, every Elf who had been a part of the former Kingdom of Doriath remembered what happened the day war broke between them and the Dwarves. But those weren’t part of Thorin’s family, and the incident happened such a long time ago everyone understood it was time to start forging new friendships and alliances. More so with the dark times ahead.  However, Glorfindel knew there was more to Thranduil’s annoyance towards Thorin and it was the fact Thranduil saw him as nothing else but another prison and this didn’t make Thranduil see beyond or even try to.

“If you want to feel better, then I have to say Prince Thorin seems to think the same of you.” Glorfindel tilted his head. “He certainly is ready to jump into a fight with you whenever he can. Although, what he did today was a noble gesture.”

Thranduil made a face, “Yes, I will give him that. But, don’t go thinking just because Legolas seems to like him, I’m going to lower my guard with him.”

“Of course not, that would be too mature for you.” Glorfindel replied rolling his eyes, Thranduil glared at his friend.

Silence fell between them, thoughts filled their minds and worries about the present and the future. For the briefest moment, Thranduil thought of Bard, sweet and loving Bard with soft smile and strong body; Thranduil wished, not for the first time, he could have loved him. Perhaps, things would have been easier if he did. But, Thranduil knew his heart would forever remained cold as ice, strong as stone, never giving in the chance for anyone else to hurt him or take the place of the only one Thranduil had loved. It was too much pain for someone who lives forever.

“Father never told me about the engagement.” Thranduil spoke softly his voice tinge with reproach. “I knew there were troubles, the rumors about goblins in the Misty Mountains and the growing darkness in Dol-Guldur were common topics in council reunions; but in the last three months father had been holding private meetings with the eldest among our people and you, Glorfindel.”

The question was implied in Thranduil’s words, Glorfindel shifted nodding gravely at his friend thinking over what happened in those meetings.

“Those aren’t rumors anymore, Thranduil.” Glorfindel furrowed his brows. “The goblins have a new leader and this leader obeys and pays homage to a new Master. A Master growing inside the dark fortress of Dol-Guldur.”

“If these aren’t rumors anymore, does this means Mordor…”

“No, those are still rumors, but Gondor and Rohan had been sending messages commenting the strange happenings of the dark land.” Glorfindel sighed. “My friend, your father protects Mirkwood much like Queen Melian protected Doriath once.”

“I know, even if mother is no longer beside him the protection is still strong.” Thranduil stared directly into Glorfindel’s eyes and suddenly he understood.

“Father expects me to…to bond with Thorin and create the Girdle of Melian around Erebor as well.” Thranduil felt sick, he lowered his cup shaking his head as the plans of his father started taking shape in his mind. “He knows there is only one way to do so! He knows…”

“And King Thráin knows this as well. His spies are very effective, Thranduil.” Glorfindel spoke gravelly. “Thráin threatened war, he told your father our friendship and alliance should be strengthen by an union that could provide Erebor with a protection much like Mirkwood and he knew you, Thranduil, were an Omega of the ancient House of Lady Melian. He knew if you were to join his son not only you could give him a powerful heir, you could also provide this magical protection to Erebor.”

“So, father just gave in his demands? In his threats for war?” Thranduil replied with anger.

“Yes, you know as well as I, Thráin had been building his Kingdom in greed and with the shadow of someone coming to take away his treasure.” Glorfindel continued calmly. “He has one of the best armies in the whole of Middle-earth, we can’t compete with this. But, Thráin has also been facing internal problems and he needs all the leverage he can get and a friendship with the Elves that provide him with substantial goods for the production and commerce is also important.”

Glorfindel then added, “Besides, your father was thinking of how convenient would it be to have you in the Throne of Erebor, you will be such a great help not only for our people but for Thorin’s people as well.”

“I’m just a piece in this game, then? I’m just a…a mare to breed!” Thranduil spat out sitting back with his fist tightly close.

Glorfindel softened his expression, he stood up and knelt beside his friend taking his hands in his and making the Elven-Prince faced him.

“Thranduil, you are so much more than that, and you know it. You are a blessing to the Royal line and every eldest in the council knows this.”

"They didn't seem to think this when I had Legolas." Thranduil replied bitterly. "Don't you remember how much of shame I was?"

Glorfindel sighed sadly feeling the pain of his friend in the voice that spoke of old wounds.

"Haldir was not enough, Thranduil." Glorfindel spoke clearly aware of how much hurt he was bringing to his friend. "You know if...if it had been that way, he wouldn't have..."

"Don't." Thranduil stopped Glorfindel before the Captain could finish his sentence. "You are asking me to produce an heir for the Dwarf our of a arrange marriage while the son born out of love should be forever hidden."

Glorfindel lowered his gazed, "Thranduil, you are a Prince. Sometimes, we are in not position to do what we want for the greater good of our people. But, do not lose hope, do not give in dark thoughts."

Thranduil shook his head, but couldn't say anymore. Glorfindel tried to give Thranduil a hopeful smile as he spoke.

“Thráin is a fool, he won’t live forever and if he continues this soon his own people would make him abdicate to Prince Thorin. Your father is counting with this. You know whereas Thráin will die, if Thorin is to join with you…well, he won’t. Age won’t be a problem for him anymore.”

Glorfindel squeezed Thranduil's hands, "Give it time and I will back you up and force the hand on the council for Legolas to be finally recognized as your son. Your legitimate son."

Thranduil shook his head not wanting to hear the political reasoning behind Glorfindel’s words and King Oropher’s real intentions. However, those last words made him hesitate, he wanted to believe them, but Glorfindel was just as good as his father at playing the political game. 

“Thorin, he is young…he will need you, Thranduil.” Glorfindel finally said gauging his friends reaction.

“I don’t love him.” Thranduil said through clenched teeth. “I don’t even like him…If they’re expecting me to create the spell…And, Legolas, what about him?”

“It won’t get to that, Thranduil. I don’t think Thorin would ever dare to force it, force you. And Legolas is staying here, with you. Of this King Oropher was perfectly clear.”

“How are you so sure? He looks like his father.” Thranduil mumbled feeling torn between being worried about Thorin being like Thráin and relief knowing Legolas would stay with him.

“No, Thranduil, you are mistaken. You didn’t meet her, but I dare say Thorin is much like his mother and you and him will need to work together if you want this to work.”

“I don’t want it to work, Glorfindel. I just…” Thranduil sighed tiredly. “I just want to be with Legolas, I want to be happy and…and forget about this…”

“I know, Thranduil. I know.” Glorfindel shrugged tilting his head. “Let’s make a deal.”

“What kind of deal?” Thranduil narrowed his eyes at Glorfindel, but he was curious so he tried to listen first.

“You have a year to meet Thorin and they are expecting for you to bond with the Mountain.” Glorfindel said. “If by the end of the year your feelings regarding Thorin haven’t changed and your feelings towards him will never change I will help you run away with Legolas to a place where no one can get you.”

Thranduil opened his eyes in shock, he eyed Glorfindel but there was not mock or anything betraying fool play from his friend’s part. Thranduil turned his head regarding Glorfindel carefully.

“You mean it? You…”

“Yes, you have my word.”

A spark of suspicion sneaked inside Thranduil’s blue eyes, the Elven-Prince stood up facing Glorfindel with a hand stretched. Glorfindel took the hand sealing the promise.

“I won’t marry him, Glorfindel. A year is a blink in the eye of an elf. You know this, my feelings won’t change.” Thranduil said with such certainty Glorfindel was tempted to contradict, but he stopped himself.

“Thranduil, I promise you I will keep my word if this doesn’t happen.” Then, Glorfindel said something that left Thranduil startled but also thoughtful. “But I know…I know, this… _him_ is what you may need.”

Thranduil snorted shaking his head in denial, “No, you are wrong. I don’t need anyone but my son.”

This time around Glorfindel allowed himself a tiny smile, the Elf shrugged, “Whatever you say, My Prince. I think I bid you farewell for today.”

Glorfindel was about to leave when Thranduil couldn’t help but ask one final question.

“Glorfindel.” When the other Elf stopped and turned his head Thranduil asked. “Why are you so sure about this? About _him_?”

“Because he is like his mother.”

And with that final comment, Glorfindel left leaving a perplex Prince behind.

 

*****

 

At the other side of the mountain, in the commercial district of Erebor, Thorin sat at the table of Bilbo’s home with a beer in front of him. They had a busy day and now Bilbo and Balin were seeking answers from their dearest friend, much like Glorfindel had done so with Thranduil.

“I still don’t understand how you end up fighting with Prince Thranduil in such a way.” Bilbo commented taking another bite from his meal. “I mean, you two seem so angry…”

“You should really control yourself, Thorin.” Balin continued when Bilbo busy himself with his drink. “You know how important is this union between you and Prince Thranduil.”

“No, I don’t.” Thorin replied shaking his head. “And I want to understand, but father won’t share with me what he considered estate secrets.”

“These are dark times, you heard Dwalin the other day. If the goblins of the Misty Mountains and Dol-Guldur have some dealings Erebor will be in trouble.” Bilbo glanced at Thorin with care, “You also know your father…well, people are not happy with him.”

Thorin knew of this, of course.

It was not secret that as he grew older Thráin had stopped being wise and was behaving erratically, demanding impossible payments from the merchants and doubling the hours of work in the mines. He had decreed that all Dwarves of twenty-one should start a military training, ready to serve the King in the times of need. But peace has been a constant in the lives of the Dwarves of Erebor and even with the dark rumors many thought this to be an exaggeration from their King’s part. No one spoke of it, of course. What was more, Thráin, in recent years had become obsess with accumulating and creating more wealth for him and his house, all of this since he was rewarded with Durin’s Ring, one of the seven surviving rings of the seven kingdoms.  The King was growing insane and his people were starting to notice this; but the Dwarves of Erebor loved Thorin, the appreciate him and saw in him the hope, perhaps, the Kingdom would be in good hands should the King be removed from the Throne.

Thorin knew of this, as he knew the moved his father made to engage him with Thranduil had been dangerous but smart. The elite found an advantage in this and, while Thorin ignored it at the beginning he now understood it clearly. An heir, a child born of both royal Houses in Mirkwood and Erebor, a child that could claim both Kingdoms when he grew up; Thorin furrowed his brow, feeling protective of his fictitious child, he would not allow anyone to use him or her in such an unreasonable way. Not that he thought it was possible, Thorin had promised himself to find a way out of the marriage and by Mahal he would keep his promise.

“I know these aren’t happy times, Thorin. I know you don’t want this marriage, but you have to do something because people can’t find you and your fiancée fighting every day.” Bilbo spoke gravelly glancing at his friend with worry. “If you father finds out, he will punish you.”

Thorin winced, he thought about it after his fight with Thranduil and he was pretty sure in the morning he would be called to his father’s office in which he would receive the right punishment.

“I know, I know but the blast Elf just gets in my nerves and UGH…” Thorin grunted at the end frustrate, Bilbo and Balin glanced at each other half-amused and half-worried.

“Why do you seem so affected by him?” Balin finally asked looking suspiciously at Thorin, the Prince shifted shrugging while drinking some beer.

“I don’t know…”

And truthfully, Thorin wasn’t sure why he was so angry with him. A part of the Prince kept thinking on their very first meeting so many years ago and how Thranduil seemed to really forget about that day. But, Thorin couldn’t be mad at Thranduil because he didn’t remember this; he just couldn’t mainly because it was stupid. Nothing had happened, and while Thorin thought Thranduil had been beautiful back then, Thorin thought Thranduil wasn't even that good looking now.

_Liar_

“You better start behaving yourself, Thorin.” Balin reprimanded him. “Remember is not only you but him that is tied to this engagement. You have to make an effort to…behave, to try and at least act civil around one another and stop fighting like youngsters.”

“I know this, Balin.” Thorin really didn’t want his father messing around just because he and Thranduil weren’t behaving like the happy couple Thráin kept talking about.

“You should try talking to him; actually try to get closer to him, you now?” Bilbo commented suddenly while picking up another potato.

Thorin and Balin both turned to Bilbo with questioning glances; the Hobbit lifted his face rolling his eyes when he noticed skepticism from both of them. Bilbo ate some of his dinner shaking his head while playing with the fork.

“Don’t look at me like that! Seriously, you Dwarves are so dumb sometimes.” Bilbo smirked when he found himself at the end of their glares. “I’m not asking you to go and fall in love with him or anything, just…talk to him, you know? He is not that bad, and he can be quite funny even if he doesn’t get his own jokes.”

“As if it was possible to fall in love with him.” Thorin snorted drinking some more beer ignoring the smiling Bilbo. “Don’t look at me like that! I’m not some idiot to fall for his supposedly charming character.”

“I never said anything about his charming character, but you can’t tell me you don’t think he is attractive? Even Dwarves must admit of all the Elves we had met so far Prince Thranduil is the most attractive one.” Bilbo continued pressing the topic.

Thorin rolled his eyes, his lips curling into a smile while he shrugged.

“Not my type.”

“I don’t think you have a type, you know?” This time it was Balin the one to speak, the old dwarf suddenly was contemplative furrowing his brows while speaking. “Actually, I don’t think we know or heard you liking someone…”

“Don’t you start! I just…I’ve never been interested in anyone and the ones who seem to pay any attention to me do it because of what I am.” Thorin shrugged suddenly feeling self-conscious about himself, the old insecurities that he wasn’t good enough.

“As always, you are being unfair with yourself, Thorin.” Bilbo scowled at his best friend before softening his eyes. “You just haven’t given someone the chance to get close to you and discover the great Dwarf you are.”

“And, I’m not planning to. I’ve seen what _love_ does to people.” Thorin spat out the word lowering his eyes. “I still remember my mother suffering my father’s abuses all in the name of her love for him.”

Balin shifted uneasily while Bilbo gave Thorin a sad smile, and for a moment everyone was silent. It was not mystery to Bilbo or Balin how much Thorin’s mother had suffered under Thráin just before she died during some orc attack. Only Thorin and Dís had mourned their mother whereas his father was already warning his bed with countless females ready to give in their King’s pleasures.

“Thorin, I know it is difficult. I know you don’t want love and that’s fine, but what if you try to be Prince Thranduil’s friend.” Bilbo started talking again trying to voice his own ideas and concerns. “Your father is going to watch you closely to make sure you follow in his expectations. It wouldn’t harm you if you were to make an ally out of the Prince of the Woodland Realm.”

“The other Prince, you mean. The one meant to hold the crown, because Prince Legolas already seemed quite taken by Thorin.” Balin contributed chuckling. “I have never seen a young elf, but he sure was a lad full of energy.”

“I don’t think he was tired by the end of the day, or even during the feast.” Thorin replied smiling suddenly, then his expression changed to one of puzzlement. “Although, I didn’t know King Oropher had another son.”

Balin nodded and Bilbo thanked the skies his friends weren’t looking his way because he was sure when they mentioned Prince Legolas he almost choked on his beer.

“That’s true, I didn’t know it either. We should ask Dwalin when he gets here what he knows about the young Prince.” Balin leaned back on his chair shooting Thorin a contemplative stare. “In the meantime, I agree with Bilbo. Make friends with the Elven-Prince; try to get to some agreement, he doesn’t look eager to get married to you so, perhaps, if you two join forces you can get out of this.”

Thorin made a face musing over what his two friends had said, at this point though, the Dwarf-Prince thought it was more possible to forge a friendship with Legolas because Thranduil…Thranduil was too far away.

Bilbo saw hesitation in his friend’s face standing up he approached Thorin placing a single hand on the dwarf’s shoulder, Thorin turned to Bilbo and he realized the Hobbit was completely serious wearing a hint of worry on his blue eyes.

“Thorin, I don’t know what is going on. But your father is always thinking ahead, always scheming and you…you are always a piece in his games.”

If Bilbo wasn’t his friend, Thorin would have hit him or try to deny everything the Hobbit was saying. He hated Bilbo was right, a part of Thorin hurt when he realized his father didn’t even care about him or what he might want. Another part of Thorin knew Thráin was losing control and he needed to be prepared for anything.

Bilbo squeezed Thorin’s shoulder smiling gently at him, “Promise me, you will try to at least get to know Prince Thranduil without arguing with him. Promise me Thorin, you won’t become in what you father expects you to because, Thorin you are so much better than that.”

Thorin swallowed holding back the tears as he glanced at Bilbo, when he stared at the Hobbit he couldn’t help but be remained of his brother and his mother. The Hobbit probably couldn’t understand completely how  his words affect Thorin, how much his worry towards the Dwarf made Thorin resist the darkness covering his heart whenever he was in the company of his father or his father’s words came back to memory.

“I promise you, Master Baggins, I’ll do my best.”

Bilbo smiled nodding, “Good. Now, who wants more beer?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:   
> Okay, time for a long author's note, like I said this story is going to contain some Tolkien world facts but with some changes, I hope you like the story and any questions you may have I will answer. Sorry, I haven't been able to find a beta for this one yet, so if anyone wants to help I will be thankful.
> 
> 1\. Since I don't have any knowledge of the noble tongue of the Elves, let's pretend the conversation in italics between Glorfindel and Thranduil are in elvish.
> 
> 2\. If my research is not mistaken this words are elvish:  
> -û : No  
> \- Daro: stop  
> \- Ada: father
> 
> 3\. In the story, Legolas is 25 years old, since Elves live forever, let's pretend this is the equivalent of the starting years of adolescence for most Elves, it is also the right age for them to start some king of apprenticeship, hence Legolas being Glorfindel's apprentice. More about Legolas and his parents is going to be revealed through the story.
> 
> 4\. The Girdle of Melian was a spell surrounding the Kingdom of Doriath and protecting the land in with King Thingol and Queen Melian lived. For the sake of the story, Thranduil and his mother before him were capable of doing the same spell...but, there is a price you will find in future chapters.


	4. What Dwarves Do Best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dís comes for a surprised visit; Thorin and Thranduil get close or not.

**Chapter 4**

**What Dwarves do best**

Winter had arrived with falling snow and bitter cold blizzards.

Erebor welcomed the season with celebrations taking place inside the warm refuge of the Mountain; the Great River was now frozen allowing young dwarves and some old ones the chance to slide in the smooth, slippery surface. The white snow covered the valley and everything was white with the colourful addition of children playing around with mothers running after them trying to make them wear their coats.

The commerce was just as busy as any other time of the year, but many Dwarves, Men and even some Elves would approach Erebor with the hope of watching the Winter Festival held in the Hall of Thrór, it was a festival meant to welcome the new year and it would usually be accompanied by fireworks and fire lamps flying away in the sky. 

It had been a month since the engagement between Prince Thorin and Prince Thranduil had been announced. Times had been shaky for both Princes; they couldn’t admit defeat regarding their fate as future husbands. However, a silent agreement was established between them, an uncertain truce in which both Princes decided to not get into each other’s nerves. It worked, most of the time, and it also gave them the opportunity of get to know one another without getting to the insults first. Their friends had been shocked, but accepted this nice change and even encouraged it whenever they were in public or in front of King Thráin.

For more than a month, Thranduil let Thorin and the rest of his company to introduce him to the world of Erebor. Sometimes Thráin would join the teachings trying to get the Elf’s attention while explaining the magnificence of the Kingdom; however, those times were usually filled with tension and caution, Thráin had shown time after time he held not love or high regard for his first born and he had shown how possessives he was of his own secrets and his treasure.  Thranduil along with Glorfindel had started noticing the changes in the King, his erratic behaviour, his mood changes and the glint of derangement that would appear from time to time. While the Elves started acting cautious, Thranduil couldn’t help but feel sympathy for Thorin who was seeking out to reach his father before he was completely lost.

By the time Thranduil realized he had been far away from his home for more than a month winter had arrived and he along with Glorfindel and Legolas were bounded to spend their first winter inside of Erebor.

Legolas and Glorfindel were exited, Thranduil for his part felt heavy-hearted by the season as memories of past times filled his mind. Nevertheless, he tried to share the enthusiasm his son seemed to be experiencing with the season and the legendary Winter Festival to which Legolas and the other Elves were the honourable guest of.

Thranduil thought winter had been marked by the Day of Durín, until Balin and Orí explained to him; the real beginning of Winter Solstice was on the twentieth-first day of the twelfth and last month of the year.  It was the day when snow started falling and the cold became a mortal enemy. Thorin had been pretty busy making arrangements and preparing the great feast that would be held on the last day of the year; and just as he promised his father, he tried to include Thranduil in everything he did and the folks of Erebor were starting to accept the Elven Prince as one of their own.

Thorin and Thranduil, of course, would try to act civil with one another whenever they were in public; even though it was difficult. Still, they tried whenever they would attend an official dinner or whenever Thorin went to attend some of his duties inside the mountain with Thranduil closed behind learning and acting civil towards Thorin, always pretending they get along just fine, pretending because they fought as much as they pretend to be happy around each other.

Sometimes they would care to not fight with an audience of common folk but in the privacy of their shared time with their friends. Some other times, it was inevitable to do so in front of everyone, thankfully for many Dwarves in Erebor this little quarrels were the sign of undying love instead of deep annoyance. After a month of being with them, Thorin’s companions and Thranduil’s companions were used to both Princes bickering like children.

Thorin had decided to take Thranduil out of the Royal Palace into the city of Erebor. The Dwarven-Prince decided to pay a visit to Bilbo while showing young Legolas and Thranduil the wonders of Dwarven-craftsmanship in the decorations meant for Winter. He decided on the visit after a particular conversation he held with the Elf about who was better with their hands and the art of crafting beauties; as per usual, Thorin was ready to show Thranduil Elves were not better than Dwarves. However, the visit was tainted by a brief encounter with King Thráin whose viciousness towards his son and his inappropriate comments directed to the Elven-Prince had indisposed both Princes to the point tension was evident between them. It had taken every ounce of self-restrained from Thranduil to not react to the lecherous provocations coming from a drunken Thráin; the only thing that caught Thranduil by surprise was the sudden reaction from Thorin. The Dwarven-Prince had almost come face to face with his father while trying to keep Thranduil out of it.

Balin, Legolas and Glorfindel had already noticed the tension on both Princes.

They had entered the Commercial District of Erebor crossing silent alleys until the Elves were blinded by the sight of silver and blue, dim lights around them as the District spread in front of them in the forms of candelabra lit with golden, the sound of merry music, laughter and conversation.  The gates welcomed the visitors decorated with silver and blue, the colours of the Prince of the Dwarven Kingdom, a sign of the love the Dwarves of Erebor held for the young lord. Lights and candles were placed in embellished candelabra or bases with forms of bears, lions and dragons.

Thranduil couldn’t help but admire the colours decorating the streets, or the different ornaments people had bothered to put on their doorsteps or store windows. Thorin glanced at the Elven-Prince, his lips curling up in a subtle smile.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Thranduil lowered his gaze to find Thorin looking back at him; the Dwarf was now wearing a smug grin, his eyes gleaming at the Elven-Prince before he continued speaking, “I don’t think the Woodland Realm can compare with the magnificent that is Erebor in Winter.”

Thranduil pursed his lips glaring at Thorin who couldn’t wipe away the smugness on his face. The Elven-Prince soon lost his own expression of admiration, changing it into one of cold detachment and boredom.

“I’ve seen better. There is nothing in this place that holds any charm or can be of any kind of innovation.” Thranduil snorted looking around before pinning Thorin with his clear, blue eyes. “This is rather… _common_ and _boring_.”

Thorin felt his mouth hanging open in disbelief, he blinked a couple of times shaking his head while pointing accusingly at Thranduil.

“I saw you not two minutes ago looking around with admiration and marvelled by the beauty of every single decoration!”

“You are deluding yourself, _dear._ ” Thranduil sneered at the end of his sentence; he leaned in ruffling Thorin’s hair as if the Dwarf was a mere child.

Thorin growled slapping the hand away and soon another discussion erupted between both Princes. Orí sighed tiredly shaking his head alongside Legolas; they were the youngest in the company and thus most of the time they didn’t understand why Thorin and Thranduil rather fought instead of forging a real friendship. Thranduil loved contradicting Thorin and Thorin loved trying to show off to the elf. It was like a strange game between both Princes that Legolas and Orí seemed to not comprehend.

Gloin watched at the Princes rolling his eyes, “You know? This relationship between them is going to end with a big fight or angry sex.”

Legolas opened his mouth; he turned to glare at the red-head who merely shrugged smiling suggestively. Glorfindel stopped his student before he could say something and just then the rest of the dwarves engaged in a little wager regarding the end result of the Princes’ fights. Legolas glared at Glorfindel reproachfully but the elder Elf shook his head, he would never admit to Legolas he agreed with Gloin.

Unbeknownst of the group passer-by’s watched the interaction with founded smiles, moving away while getting into the festivities. Down the street, on a well-known patisserie Bilbo and a Dwarf female stood watching both dignified Princes bickering back and forth.  The female smirked glancing at Bilbo arching her brow.

“Hate at first sight, eh?” The she-dwarf chuckled. “Now I understand what you mean, Bilbo. Fíli, come greet your uncle.”

A small, blond Dwarf appeared from behind the Hobbit, his face lit up running as fast as his little legs allowed it while screaming into the street.

“UNCLE!”

Whatever the fight between Thorin and Thranduil had been about, it was soon forgotten when a small bundle of gold and black came running towards them. The little kid soon wrapped his arms tightly around Thorin’s left leg. The Dwarven-Prince glanced down to see his five year old nephew smiling brightly at him.

“Fíli!” Thorin bowed down to pick him up, he threw the child in the air and soon Fíli’s laughter filled the street.

Thranduil liked pretending Thorin was a brutish, uncultured and insensitive Dwarf. It was easier than actually admitting the Prince wasn’t what he thought on their first meeting. Looking around the street, Thranduil realized many were watching their Prince with the kid, so many had gently smiles and were watching with admiration at their beloved Prince. Thranduil observed everyone around them, he could see the love, the admiration and the loyalty; whether he wanted it or not, Thorin was loved by his people in ways Thráin would never be.

And Thranduil, well…the Elven-Prince’s heart softened as did his eyes when he saw how sincere Thorin was in his behaviour. The Dwarven-Prince was happily bouncing Fíli; the dwarf grinned goofily while answering every question the little kid asked.  Thranduil would never admit it but is heart warm at the sight, longing started growing in his soul as he watched Thorin loving the five-year-old child.

Again, Thorin surprised Thranduil and the Elven-Prince was starting to think he rather liked it whenever Thorin would do something unexpectedly nice.

“Who’s that?” Fíli then turned his brown eyes to Thranduil; the Dwarven kid tilted his head blinking at Thranduil before breaking into a shy smile. “He is pretty. He is pretty like Elly.”

Thorin turned to Thranduil holding his nephew firmly in his arms, for a brief moment Thorin and Thranduil looked directly into each other’s eyes, something inside Thorin flickered, an emotion Thranduil wasn’t capable of reading.

“Yes, he is.” Thorin spoke softly making sure only Thranduil and Fíli heard him. “Wait a second, who is Elly? Where is your mother, Fíli?”

Fíli pointed in the general direction of the street he had come running from before speaking again, “Elly is my friend. He is an elf and my friend. You an elf too?”

Thranduil lowered his face covering the sudden warm on his cheeks, Thorin’s words still fresh on his mind. The Elven-Prince smiled gently at the kid nodding, “Yes, I am.  I’m Thranduil, and you, young dwarf, what’s your name?”

“I’m Fíli.”

Fíli giggled shyly stretching his arms towards Thranduil, the Elven-Prince stood frozen for a moment he glanced at Fíli then at Thorin who seemed rather amused. The Dwarf arched a daring eyebrow at him grinning mischievously at the Elf.

“What is it, _dear?_ Are you afraid of this sweet, little Dwarf?” Thorin said in a fake, sweet tone. Fíli was looking crestfallen all of a sudden; he was starting to lower his arms when Thranduil picked him up lifting him higher than Thorin had done so before.

Fíli giggled in delight allowing Thranduil to wrap his arms tightly and letting him rest on the left side of the Elf. Without Thranduil noticing, Fíli tried winking at his uncle who chuckled winking back.

“You have pretty hair.” Fíli said. “I have gold hair too.”

“I can see that, you are a handsome, young Dwarf, Fíli.” Thranduil smiled gently, his eyes flickering towards Thorin before speaking again. “You are even more handsome than your uncle.”

“Prince Thranduil?” Legolas approached his father torn between being slightly jealous of the kid and curious about such a young dwarf.

Thranduil turned to his son; his lips were curled in a smile when Fíli took noticed of Legolas. Both blonds looked at each other for a long time, Thranduil could hear the Dwarves talking around them but he could also noticed the weight of Thorin’s eyes on him. Legolas smiled then approaching his father while lifting his hand towards Fíli.

“Hi, I’m Legolas.” Legolas glanced at his father and, while Thranduil saw sadness there, he could also see understanding.

Thranduil felt a tug at his heart, and hated the fact he could not console his son until they were in the privacy of their room. He knew Legolas was thinking of all the times he was incapable of running towards his father in public, of those moments in which Thranduil could not enjoy with his son. Legolas offered his father a soft smile before turning his attention to Fíli who was smiling brightly at Legolas taking the offered hand in his smaller one.

“I’m Fíli. You pretty too!”

Fíli then went from Thranduil’s arms to Legolas; the young Elf was startled trying to be careful while he soon found himself being the subject of several questions and happy babbling. Thranduil chuckled suddenly aware of the company beside him; Thorin was looking at Legolas and Fíli before turning his attention to Thranduil.

“Apparently my sister has come from Ered Luin to visit father and me.” Thorin chuckled when Fíli demanded to be put down and then dragged Legolas away.

Thorin and Thranduil stood alone on the street, people would greet their Prince from time to time but, in general, the both of them were left alone. For the very first time ever since they found themselves trapped with one another _something_ happened. They didn’t know what it was, but soon Thranduil turned to Thorin conflicted, with a heavy heart and many questions in his mind. Thorin wanted to say something; he sensed this was the perfect moment to say _something, anything_. The problem was he wasn’t sure what he was expected to say and Thranduil wasn’t sure what he wanted to hear. Laughter and chatter reached them, soon a scream of _‘Uncle!’_ and _‘Thrandy’_ reached their ears and, for the very first time, they shared the same smile.

“Come, something tells me my sister and Bilbo had been spending their day planning this surprise visit.”

Thorin had not been mistaken, as soon as he stepped inside Bilbo’s home he was wrapped into a tight hug. Dís made sure his brother felt how much she had missed him; Thorin returned the hug with a content grin adorning his features.

“You big oaf! You don’t write! You don’t visit!” Dís waved a finger at his brother, her lips curling up into a smile. “I even found out about your big engagement during my trip!”

At that moment, the she-dwarf turned her attention to Thranduil who found himself the subject of a prying, clever stare. Dís stepped away from his brother approaching the Elven-King; her dark eyes went from the golden hair adorned by a silver circlet to the broad shoulders and the dark blue tunic going up to the elf’s knees with black leggings and equally dark boots. Thranduil was looking like a Prince, but also as someone who was getting used to the life in the mountain.

“Mae govannen, Prince Thranduil Orophelion, saesa omentien lle.” Dís greeted the Prince in perfect elvish, Thranduil looked rather surprised much like Legolas and Glorfindel. “Im Dís.”

“Mae govannen, Arwenamin.” Thranduil answered back. “I must say, my lady, I never expected the sister of Prince Thorin to speak elvish or to be quite as charming as yourself.”

Dís smirked glancing at Thorin then back at Thranduil, “I’m the beauty in the family, to be honest. Besides, I’ve been living right beside Lord Círdan, the old Elf is pretty open to those ready to learn. He is a good Elf, always helpful and it is thanks to him I, at least, know how to greet.”

“Lord Círdan has always been quite taken by the Naugrim.” Thranduil commented lightly, there was something about Dís agreeable to him. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Queen Dís.”

“Please, Prince Thranduil, while in Bilbo’s house I’m Dís.” Dís turned to the Hobbit who blushed slightly smiling shyly from the spot on a table. “Now, I thought this was some kind of celebration, let’s see if you haven’t forgotten how to do it!”

Thranduil watched as everyone around the room seemed to obey the she-dwarf, the female smirked amusedly winking at Thranduil. Soon, Balin, Oín, Nori and Bofur were putting away their instruments and music filled the room. Thorin desired to speak with his sister but Fíli and Legolas claimed his attention distracting him from his goal while Dís and Thranduil were left alone. Thranduil smirked amusedly when he realized Glorfindel had gone to the Hobbit, his new best friend inside the mountain; while Thranduil was soon engaged by Dís in light conversation.

The she-dwarf was quite charming, she was straight forward asking question and telling news about the Far West. Thranduil soon found himself speaking just as animatedly as everyone else in the room, the Elven-Prince found it easier to share his time with Dís who was a delightful company always ready with a nice story or interesting questions. She was easy to talk to and she loved her big brother immensely, she had come visiting with his son while her husband took care of the Kingdom; something told Thranduil there was more to the story but for now they were celebrating her arrival and the reunion of what seemed a group of old friends.

After a moment of silence between them, Dís finally got the chance to approach the topic Thranduil had been avoiding all evening.

“So, you are engage to my brother.” Dís stated offering the Elven-Prince a wooden cup, Thranduil accepted with a nod of his head.

“I am.”

“You don’t sound happy.” Dís could tell her question put the Elf in an uncomfortable position, Thranduil seemed tensed his hand grabbing the cup tightly. “Is it because he gets smelly after training those goats of his, after a day working on the forges? Or is it because this wasn’t what you or even Thorin desired?”

Thranduil blinked at the female trying to remember she was a Queen and thus, her questions were always asked with a reason behind them.

“It is not my place to be happy or not, my engagement with your brother is for the well-being of our Kingdoms.” Thranduil had practiced this answer several times, whenever he needed to convinced himself or others about his future marriage.

Dís tilted her head letting out a heavy sigh, “Love can come later, right?”

“There is no need for love when you are serving your people.” Thranduil replied almost instantly.

“There is always need for love, Prince Thranduil. Or affection if the word love scares you as much as it scares Thorin.” Dís replied smiling gently at Thranduil. “I have the fortune of loving my husband the very first time we met. Mother, however…well, she wasn’t as lucky as me. I was hoping for Thorin to be the lucky one.”

Thranduil felt the question on his tongue, he was tempted to ask what had happened to Dís and Thorin’s mother but he sensed it would be imprudent to do so. The Elven-Prince, however, did glance at Thorin who was laughing at something Fíli had said; the Dwarven-Prince lifted his eyes and found himself looking directly into Thranduil’s eyes. Both of them frowned looking away almost immediately, Dís cocked her head chuckling amusedly at Thranduil.

“Believe me, Lady Dís, there is no love lost between me and Prince Thorin. I believe he and I are looking for a loophole in this madness our Kings decided to put us in.” Thranduil replied firmly.

“Oh, I believe you two are trying.” Dís couldn’t help but smile. “Would it be really that bad if you and Thorin give each other the benefit of the doubt though?”

Thranduil held the goblet with his right hand stirring its contents with circular movements from his hand. The Elven-Prince didn’t even have to muse over the question for he knew whatever happened between Thorin and Thranduil would never be more than a shaky friendship. Thranduil was not interested in anything else.

“It is not a matter of good or bad, it is more the fact he and I can’t stand each other.” Thranduil replied softly measuring his words. “We seem to fight at every chance we get, even if we need to act from time to time as a loving couple.”

Dís snorted tilting her head sceptically, she really didn’t think they could put up the act as well as they thought they were doing it. Dís wouldn’t even mention either her brother didn’t act; he would never get close or even deem it necessary to talk with the Elf if there wasn’t something there. Bilbo had been right, though; Thranduil was still guarded he wasn’t ready to give in and the walls the Elf had built around himself were strong and tall. Whereas Thorin seemed to be giving in, Thranduil was a firm believer that everything was part of an act that would lead to his final freedom.

Thranduil rose his eyes when the sound of his son’s laughter reached his ears, the Elf softened at the sight of Legolas carrying little Fíli on his shoulders. Even after learning of their history, after everything Legolas had been told, the young Prince had in his heart a spot to allow these dwarves in. He was much like his father…Not Thranduil, though. Thranduil still held contempt and anger whereas Haldir had been forgiven and open. It pained Thranduil just how easy was for Legolas to give in, to allow Thorin and the others bring his playful side. A part of Thranduil felt guilty whenever his own coldness and character made Legolas chose between having fun with the dwarves or standing beside his father wearing the same expression.

“He is a great kid.” Dís commented suddenly breaking Thranduil’s dark thoughts, the Elf creased his brows blinking at Dís who wore a knowing smirk. “Young Prince Legolas, he seems like a great kid.”

Thranduil glance around uneasily bringing his goblet to his lips shrugging, “We have a good father.”

Dís shoot him a suspicious stare she soon hid behind a contemplative stare, this time Thorin was lifting Fíli up in the air while Glorfindel and Legolas talked among them. Thorin turned around waving at his sister along with Fíli, the Dwarven-Prince’s eyes delayed for a second on Thranduil before turning around and continuing with the games.

“You have a wonderful child.” Thranduil smiled fondly. “It is amazing to see so many young Dwarves, they warm the heart of those who laid eyes on them.”

“Oh, Dwarvish children can be a handful, I tell you that.” Dís said shaking her head. “Fíli is quite the trouble maker; he was so excited when I told him we were coming here. He loves Thorin very much and Thorin is a lovely fool whenever Fíli is around.”

“Who would have thought…” Thranduil mumbled with a hint of incredulity.

Dís tilted her head frowning at the Elven-Prince, she cleared her throat clearing her mind and measuring her next words.

“There is something you need to learn about my brother, Prince Thranduil.”

Thranduil turned to fully face Dís, he quirked a brow with incredulity still decorating his beautiful features. Thranduil thought he knew everything he needed to know about Thorin; Dwarves like Thorin weren’t hard to read or figure out.

“Thorin would never admit this out loud but he wants to be a father.” Dís made sure her words reached only Thranduil.

Her declaration brought uneasiness to Thranduil’s heart; he tensed feeling his stomach revolt as dark, ill thoughts started filling his mind.

Dís continued glancing at Thranduil with care, “Thorin, he loves children, he has always wanted to be a dad. That’s why when I found out about the engagement I finally understood why the fates had brought me here.”

Thranduil furrowed his brows, tensing at the sudden turn the conversation had taken. Dís placed a hand on top of Thranduil’s one, she made sure the Prince was focusing his attention on her before speaking again.

“I came here for two things: one to heal a recent wound that doesn’t concern this conversation. Second, to make sure my brother was happy. Father had never been overly worried about Thorin, he never cared for him. When I found out Father had promised him in marriage to you, well…”

“You have to make sure I was good enough for him.” Thranduil finished conflicted, he glanced at Thorin but his heart hardened at the possibility of Thorin being vulnerable or perhaps prone to be hurt easily.

Dís sighed, “He is my big brother, and you Prince Thranduil…you could hurt him in ways I don’t think you can comprehend. His wish to be a father is just as great as his heart, he claims he doesn’t believe in love but he is foolish enough to fall without even realizing it.”

When Thranduil kept pretending he didn’t know where this conversation was heading, or what Dís was implying the she-dwarf continued.

“Imagine this marriage does happen and he finds out you can give him children…” Dís finally said it gauging Thranduil’s reaction.

“You know about…” Thranduil’s eyes burnt with indignation as he turned to Thorin, Thranduil believed his worst thoughts about had been confirmed, thoughts about Thorin just playing along with King Thráin, of just wanting to procreate and used Thranduil in the worst way. Dís understood the expression on Thranduil’s face and she stopped Thranduil before the Elven-Prince could do or say something.

“He doesn’t know.” Dís whispered. “Thorin doesn’t know you can provide him with a family, a loving family.”

“You just told me…”

“That you could hurt him.” Dís replied calmly, “He wants to be a father but he would never do so if he didn’t feel something for the other person first. However…”

Whatever direction their conversation was going to take, Thranduil never got to find out for Fíli came running towards his mother. Legolas was following him close behind smiling just as brightly as the child, soon Dís and Thranduil found themselves in the midst of a small feud between both younger Princes. And the conversation with the Queen was put to rest.

The rest of the night was shared in light conversation, music and Legolas learning some Dwarven dance. Thranduil spent his time musing over his conversation with Lady Dís, allowing himself to be involved in singing or light conversation. He and Thorin evaded one another all through the night.

That night, when Thranduil was back in his room and night was starting to welcome the day, Thranduil laid on his bed with Legolas snuggling close to him. The Elven-Prince’s thoughts were a mixture of confusion and unanswered questions and, in the middle of all of this was Thorin smiling. The Elven-King turned snorting, there was nothing there but bitterness and a cage…a cage Thranduil found himself in unable to escape. Once again, he was being used but, this time around, there was no foolish belief in love or feelings to change anything at all.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Dís visit brought the perfect excuse for Thorin to get away from Thranduil.

The Dwarven-Prince didn’t understand the need to get away from the Elf, he wasn’t afraid of the Prince or anything. But lately, Thorin had started _enjoying_ the Elf’s company; Thorin noticed he would wait impatiently for the freaking Elf to come over, to approach him to even speak to him. Not in a hundredth years would Thorin allow this feeling to grow. Thus, Dís was the perfect excused to get away from him without having King Thráin giving him a hard time for abandoning his fiancée to his own devices.

For more than a week, Thorin was busy with his sister and different arrangements inside the mountain. The Prince would be called by his father to start the new contracts and the annual revisions of the finance and the dealing with the different allies for the Kingdom. Thorin would spend most of his time with his father, with the preparations for the celebrations being held before the end of the year and spending time with his sister while trying to avoid any social compromise with his fiancée.

Thorin thanked the moment of peace in which he could share a nice afternoon tea with Dís; she had arranged everything for her and her brother to have a quiet afternoon after being occupied with the Kingdom. Thorin savoured the smell of jasmine tea her sister was pouring for him, the she-dwarf sat down inspecting her brother while taking the chair right in front of him.

“We haven’t had the chance to share a quiet talk, how is everything around here?” Dís reclined on her chair blowing softly on her cup, Thorin sighed shifting his torso into a more comfortable position.

“I really missed you.” Thorin mumbled letting out a heavy sigh. “Father has been…”

“Dáin wrote me. He told me in the last couple of months father has been crueller, more prone to count the golden coins than taking care of the Kingdom.” Dís drank some of her tea, her eyes finding Thorin’s ones.

Thorin lowered his face, his voice filled with tiredness and resignation, “He hasn’t been the same lately, and he is obsessed not only with the treasure but also with the protection of the Mountain and his ambition to have more.”

Thorin made a face, his eyes darkening while his mind brought the memories of his father’s erratic behaviour as of late.

“You’re speaking of his deal with King Oropher.” Dís stated nodding. “Yes, when I found out about your engagement to Prince Thranduil there were only a couple of reasons I could think of for Father to allow this union.”

Thorin didn’t need to ask if Dís knew about Thranduil or even Elves in general. The she-dwarf had been Queen in Ered Luin since she was a young lass, she had lived alongside the Elves of Lord Círdan in the realm of Lindon. Her sister unlike Thorin and Thráin had never entertained the notion of Elves as enemies or people who they should be wary of. Dís, more like their mother, had been practical and usually would give the benefit of the doubt to any Elf, Men or Hobbit she met; it didn’t surprise Thorin if she made friend with the Elves and they were ready to share their secrets. Her sister was born to be a Queen.

“You meant that Elves can procreate?” Thorin gave her sister a smug smirk, the she-dwarf was rather impressed until she too had to smirk.

“Thank Mahal Bilbo, Orí and Dwalin are your friends, or else you would have walked into this situation blindfolded!!” She had meant the comment to be a jest, but Thorin’s eyes darkened.

“I agreed, they told me about this strange way of the Elves. Father…he already mentioned my stupidity at not knowing more our allies, or potential enemies.” Thorin lifted a hand stopping Dís for trying to make him feel better. “Don’t, he is right, I should have known.”

“It is not well-known, Thorin.” Dís commented. “Lord Círdan told me they protected their own mainly because the survival of their race depends on the lives of the few child bearers. It is even more extraordinary when a male of high lineage is capable of carrying an heir.”

“Why keep it secret? I mean, it is strange but it also sounds miraculous.”

Dís stared at her brother for a long time, she begged Mahal Thorin never gave in the same sickness her grandfather and his father had given in before him. Her brother had a great heart, always innocent and gentle, Dís was remembered of their mother, always ready to love and see the light amongst darkness.

“It is law for Royal males to marry someone of their status in wealth and blood but also someone of higher status in biology.” Seeing the perplexed expression on her brother’s face Dís rolled her eyes smiling fondly at him. “What I mean is, only those identified as alphas and members of a high lineage are allowed to join with Elves like Thranduil.”

Thorin didn’t drop his perplexed expression; he furrowed his brows shaking his head at the absurdity of Elven tradition and strange reproductive rituals. While Thorin understood it had something to do with how they were made, he was also wondering why so many restrictions.

“So, why marry him to me? Why not another pansy Elven Royal that may get along with Thranduil? Why me, simple and lowly Dwarf?” Thorin replied.

“Thorin, you are to be King. You are of Royal blood, one of the descendants of Durin the Deathless. Whether some Elves wanted to admit it or not, you are of a noble House, loved and respected all through Middle-Earth.” Dís replied gravelly. “You getting married to Prince Thranduil will produce a great alliance between Mirkwood and Erebor and join, for the very first time a Dwarf with an Elf.”

Thorin pursed his lips, shrugging, “I guess if you said it like that it sounds important. Still, I wouldn’t touch Thranduil for all the gold of Erebor and I don’t think he would let me touch him for anything in this world. I don’t think he would never agree to me, to us…or to this madness, why he didn’t fight as much as I did?”

“That, my dear brother, you have to ask him, not me. I can only tell you, you have been bestowed with a great honour.” Dís said gravelly. “Not many mortals can claim the right to call a mighty Elda husband.”

Thorin didn’t know if his engagement with Thranduil was an honour, he was pretty sure Thranduil wouldn’t call it as such. Still, the live of Thranduil must have been hard if what his sister was saying was true. For a brief moment, Thorin remembered of all the rumours he heard regarding the Elven-prince, of all the ones who had shared the bed of the Elf and if, perhaps, one of them hadn’t already claimed the heart of the Elven-Prince.

“The last day of the year is approaching.” Dís said out of the blue, Thorin turned to her narrowing his eyes at the innocent expression she was wearing.

“Yes, I’m aware of it.”

“The Fly of the Lanterns hour is getting closer.” Dís continued and soon Thorin understood what his sister was trying to do. “Have you made yours already?”

“No.” Thorin grumbled drinking the last of his tea. “Forget it, I’m not doing it!”

“Oh, for the love of Mahal, Thorin, you have to!”

“I don’t have to do anything! The blast Elf doesn’t like my company, I can’t even imagine what would happen if I were to propose this!” Thorin crossed his arms stubbornly holding his sisters glare with one of his own.

“You have to do it! Father and all of Erebor are going to expected you two to do it! It’s tradition!” Dís replied just as stubbornly.

“Why don’t you do it? He seems to like you!”

“Does it bother you? That he likes me more than he likes you?” Dís questioned back her lips curbing into an amusing smirk.

Thorin spluttered shaking his head looking around to hide away the fact his cheeks were burning red.

“Oh, Thorin…tell me this doesn’t…”

“It doesn’t.” Thorin said through gritted teeth.

They fell silent for a moment before Thorin spoke again, “I don’t think he would care for our traditions or for learning about what we can do.”

“Give him a chance. You may get surprise.”

The Prince sat back shaking his head, he really didn’t thought inviting over the Elf to one of the most sacred traditions in Erebor would really change anything. He stared at his sister who decided to put the conversation at rest and engaged her brother in another light conversation.

They spoke until the sky darkened and dinner was brought to them; Fíli entered the room greeting his mother with mud staining face and clothing.

“Momma! Look, look! I made it for Leggy.” Fíli showed her mother a wooden animal, something akin to a horse but that still showed how fast Fíli was learning to mould wood.

“It’s beautiful, sweetie. I bet he is going to love it. Are you gifting the young Elven-Prince with this?” Dís asked and her eyes gleamed with longing, something Thorin could see from afar.

Fíli nodded eagerly placing his work on the table, “Yes, momma.”

“Good, boy. I bet he is going to love it.” Dís turned to the nursemaid and the Dwarf approached the youngest Prince in the room. “Now, my dearest one, you shall go bath yourself and then you can come over and say good night to me and uncle Thorin.”

“Yes, momma.” Fíli soon followed his nursemaid still babbling away, Thorin observed his sister carefully waiting until the door was closed and they were left alone.

Thorin placed a hand on his sister’s shoulders, his dark eyes inspecting the she-dwarf with a knowing gleam behind them. For a moment, the siblings spoke with their eyes and Dís couldn’t hide her sorrow anymore, she allowed a few tears to roll down her cheeks worrying her big brother.

“I am glad you have come, little sister.” Thorin spoke softly focusing his attention on Dís. “But now that I think about it, you hardly ever come all the way to Erebor, not alone and certainly not alone with Fíli as your only companion. Did something happen? Did your husband fault you in any way?”

Dís shook her head, her lips curling up into a sad smile, “I lost a child.”

Dís said this without any warning leaving Thorin flabbergasted, he didn’t dare to move or say anything trying to comprehend the meaning of what Dís just revealed. The Queen of Ered Luin shrugged signalling the chair behind Thorin, soon the Prince sat down staring worriedly at his sister.

“Dís, I didn’t know…I’m sorry, I…”

Dís shook her head placing her hand on top of Thorin’s one, “I was about to tell Fíli he was going to be gifted with a little brother or sister when it happened. I started feeling ill. I bleed; my husband was so worried he brought the best Elven and Dwarven healers to attend me.”

“Dís…I…” Thorin trailed off unable to find the right words, his sister smiled shaking her head. “How are you feeling? Why you didn’t say something?”

“I’m better now; I was quite devastated then but…” Dís trailed off and Thorin knew there was more.

“What is it? Tell me.”

“The healers did everything they could but, I lost my child and then they told me I…I won’t be able to bear a child anymore.” Dís sighed feeling the tears welling up in her eyes. “My husband, my lovely husband refused to take a second wife and said Fíli was more than enough. But, I feel…”

Thorin wrapped his arms around Dís and the Queen of Ered Luin allowed the comforting gesture for as long as her tears fell upon her face. Dís giggled nervously wiping away her tears feeling like a child all over again, remembering of those times when Thorin would come to her rescued. She needed this, she needed the rest and the comfort of her big brother and her heart was grateful with her husband who understood the necessity of this journey.

“This is why you have come, then.” Thorin wondered out loud, Dís tilted her head.

“Partially, yes. I need to see you but also I need to make sure you were doing well.”

Thorin chuckled shaking his head, “I am well, Dís. Now it is you I’m worried about.”

“Don’t, this pain will pass.”

“Dís…” Thorin started protesting but Dís stopped him.

“Don’t, I mean it. This pain will pass, Thorin but the regret I will feel if I ever let you go around making mistakes would forever weight me down.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Balin, Bilbo and even Dwalin told me about your intentions of making Father abdicate.” Dís lowered her voice leaning closer to her brother. “Thorin this could be very dangerous, you know Father doesn’t think the world of you.”

“Father hates me, I know.” Thorin cracked a bitter smile. “He would deny me any form of happiness only to see me suffer. He would never forgive me for being named Crowned Prince by grandfather…”

“Or for looking and being just like mother.” Dís finished pursing her lips. “Thorin, is it really that terrible to be married to Prince Thranduil?”

They were back to the beginning of their conversations; Thorin glanced at his sister with many worries and confusing thoughts filling his mind. The question caught Thorin off guard, the Prince sat back startled pondering on how to properly answer the question; Dís eyed her brother with curiosity waiting.

“I’m doing it out of duty, Dís. There is no love or affection between us.” Thorin spoke clearly. “I told you before, if I can get away from this, I would do anything to do so.”

“Since when love or affection are important to you?” Dís replied quirking a brow. “I remembered you once told me you didn’t believe in such nuisances.”

“I still don’t believe in them, but I do think it would be good if I at least get along with my future husband.” Thorin started playing with a ring he had on his right hand, Dís tilted her head resting her left cheek on her left hand. “I believe Prince Thranduil and I would fight far too much…nothing good would be born out of such a relationship.”

“Ah, but I’ve seen you, Thorin. And you forget I know you better than you know yourself.” Dís smirked when Thorin soon looked away uncomfortably.

“I don’t know what are you talking about.” Thorin tried to avoid any awkward talk but his sister wouldn’t drop the topic so easily.

“Thorin, you wouldn’t be close to Prince Thranduil or allowed his presence so close to you if you didn’t feel anything for him.” Thorin opened his eyes but Dís stopped him with a gesture of her hand. “I know this doesn’t mean attraction or love or anything of such nature, but perhaps you are starting to consider him a friend.”

“Perhaps.” Thorin accepted grudgingly. “Still, friends don’t marry each other. And, what I’ve been thinking has nothing to do with Thranduil and everything to do with how strange Father has been acting lately.”

Thorin crossed his arms stubbornly glancing at his sister to dare her to contradict him.

“You have to be smart about this, Thorin.” Dís spoke clearly, firmly making sure Thorin was paying attention to her. “I know you have thought about this but maybe mating with Prince Thranduil wouldn’t be a bad idea, it would give you strength and our people already favours you above our father. Father won’t live forever, Thorin, whereas you will.”

Thorin creased his brows blinking in puzzlement, “What do you mean? Even with my longer years, I would not be capable of live forever alongside Thranduil.”

Dís blinked a couple of times crossing her arms thoughtfully, “Thorin, what I am about to tell you is secret, no one…especially father shall find out about this.”

“What is it?” Thorin leaned in curious as to what Dís know.

“Thorin, when a mortal mates and join his or her life to an Elda…they don’t die. The gift of immortal life is shared with them. This is why marriage amongst mortals and immortals is not only rare but also so deeply controlled.”

Thorin felt dizzy, what his sister was telling him was something his heart fear greatly. Eternal life…to see your love ones died while you remained, Thorin couldn’t comprehend how his father had omit this detail or hadn’t exploited it better until…

“Father doesn’t know this…does he?”

Dís shook her head, “No, if he did it would be him and not you the one engage to Prince Thranduil, Thorin.”

And, for better or worse, Thorin felt the painful twist of a knife deep inside his heart at the thought of Thranduil falling into his father’s arms. Soon, he understood why Dís looked rather relief but worried all of a sudden.

“Father must not find out about this, Thorin.” Dís leaned closer. “And you must deal with everything you want to do carefully.”

“I will, I promise you.” Thorin replied softly.

“Thorin, it is not that bad if you decided to give into Thranduil.” Dís said suddenly, Thorin tensed but the she-dwarf held onto his brother’s hand tightly. “Just, think about it, you will be King and Thranduil may be a great ally if you are to come face to face with father. Besides, maybe you may find out the both of you enjoy each other’s company more than you care to admit.”

“Never. There is only shaky friendship and deep animosity between us.” But even as he said this Thorin hesitated. “However, I will follow your advice.”

“Good.” Dís grinned widely at her brother, their conversation getting to a timely end because soon they found themselves accompanied by a babbling Fíli who was ready to say good-night to them.

That night a plan started forming inside Thorin’s head while he asked the gods to hold his heart in place and to not let him falter before the Elven-Prince.

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Thranduil loved the solitude of the Royal library.

It was the one place in which silence would be comforting, the one place in which he could hide away from the place he was living in and gain some form of sanity. From time to time, Legolas would come to him listening with care as his father explained to him history or teach him about the books or other things the young Elf was ready to learn. At another times, Thranduil would visit the library alone while Legolas went with Glorfindel to the training grounds. On those moments, Thranduil would sit down and read book after book with Orí coming, once in a while, to share tea, food and light conversation.

The library was also the place in which he could hide away from King Thráin who had become a rather insistent and annoying host and from Thorin. Thranduil lifted the book from the closest shelve making his way to his usual spot. Thorin. The Dwarven-Prince was still the symbol of his jail, but little by little he had become an enigma, I flame Thranduil sometimes felt attracted to. Thranduil sat down furrowing his brows, there was danger with his thoughts and the anxiety he felt whenever Thorin would be closed to him. The Elven-Prince shook those irritating thoughts, closing his hard into an icy wall while opening the book in front of him. Soon, Thranduil was engrossed in his son’s favourite story: Durin the Deathless and the conquest of Khazad-Dûm. The story was entrancing, told by the Dwarves, it held a fantastic nature in its words while narrating the battles and the story in general. But Thranduil seemed to just lose himself in the story ignoring the world around him.

It was like this Thorin found him.

The Dwarven-Prince entered the library noticing there was no one around; he approached the Elf silently his dark eyes taking in the ethereal form of the Elven-Prince. This was the first time Thorin could appreciated the Elven-Prince in such a silent and relaxed state, his golden hair falling on the back, the black clothing making a nice contrast with the white, marbled skin, the golden hair and those sapphire coloured eyes.

Thorin took a couple of steps forward until he was closed enough to the Elf, he leaned forward impressed by the book Thranduil was devouring with his eyes.

“Excellent selection, Prince Thranduil.” Thorin smirked when Thranduil jerked startle by the interruption.

Thranduil turned his head to stare at Thorin, he closed the book quickly with his eyes sweeping around the library.  The Elven-Prince soon noticed they were alone and sometime inside him stirred making his body tingled.

“Yes, well, one of the few decent books you seemed to keep in this library.” Thranduil replied boringly, but the smirk on Thorin’s face told him he wasn’t convincing the Dwarf at the moment.

“Whatever makes you sleep at night, Thranduil.”

“Prince Thranduil, to you.” Thranduil found himself irritated when Thorin seemed unaffected by his comment or even his rudeness.

“I’ve been searching for you.” Thorin stepped forward leaning against the table, Thranduil furrowed his brows glancing at Thorin with some wariness.

“Whatever for?”

Thranduil tensed looking cautiously at Thorin who suddenly shrugged lowering his gaze, silence fell between them Thranduil made sure to sit hi full height, Thorin tilted his head and realized like this they were around the same height. The Dwarf wondered just how different things could be if they had met in another circumstances.

_I bet we still be fighting and getting on each other’s nerves most of the time._

Thorin chuckled earning himself an annoyed glare from Thranduil, the Elven-Prince crossed his arms lifting his eyebrows unimpressed by the lack of explanations coming from Thorin.

“Well? I am waiting for you to tell me why you were looking for me.”

“You should watch your mouth, Prince Thranduil. I am Prince, as much as you are one, you should remember that when you demand answers from me.” Thorin retorted partially annoyed.

“You have interrupted my reading, claiming to be looking for me, staring at me without talking.” Thranduil leaned back against his chair eyeing Thorin. “It is you who should learn some manners.”

Thorin rolled his eyes snorting, “I have not come here to fight. I merely want to show you something.”

Thranduil perked up, his ears twitching as the Elven-Prince leaned forward with curiosity gleaming in his eyes. He didn’t want to look eager or interested, so he sat back tilting his head at the Dwarf.

“It is necessary for me to accompany you; my book seems more interesting than whatever Dwarven duty or celebration you wish to show me.” Thranduil spoke with his voice tinged with disdain.

Thorin furrowed his brows, clenching his fists while shooting Thranduil a glowering stare. He was so tempted to answer with the same sharp, tongue with silver words tainted with teasing and disdain but he decided against it. The week had been long, his father had been a tiresome burden during the meetings and his sister and his friends might be right, he should try to get Thranduil on his side instead of fighting him at every turn. Swallowing his pride and annoyance, Thorin straightened up presenting his right hand to a startle Elven-Prince.

“It is of the utmost importance for you to come with me.” Thorin thought of stopping there but something inside of him forgone sensitivity and the Dwarf continued before he could censure himself. “It would be a great honour and pleasure if you were to accompany me as well.”

Thranduil sat taken aback by the comment, he shoot Thorin a curious glanced only to be even more startled discovering the sudden sheepishness from the Dwarven-Prince.  Thranduil blinked a couple of times to make sure he wasn’t imagine or seeing things that weren’t there. The Elven-Prince observed the hand that was being offered to him, then the Dwarf who was waiting patiently for an answer. Thranduil tingled all over with his right arm twitching to accept Thorin’s hand, but something inside him hardened, the shadow of pain came to him when his heart seemed to give in the Dwarf’s gesture.

Thorin thought he saw something warm inside those blue eyes, something ready to give in only to be replaced by a sudden coldness. The Dwarven-Prince was about to lower his arm and give up when Thranduil stood up; the Elf didn’t take Thorin’s hand but he did lock his eyes with Thorin’s ones.

“Very well, let me see what you seem so adamant to show me.”

Thorin couldn’t believe Thranduil accepted to follow him and spend some time alone with him, Thranduil couldn’t believe he had given in the Dwarf’s request. Both of them didn’t know the wheels of fate moving slowly, but surely around them.

*****

The Elven-Prince was taken to a more seclude part of the Royal Palace, they crossed the gates leading to the main hall, to the left wing and even to the Throne Room. Thranduil furrowed his brows when he found himself in a darkened hall; he hesitated glancing distrustfully at Thorin standing at the entrance of the dark passage.

“I promise you there is nothing scary or bad down there.” Thorin couldn’t help but rolled his eyes allowing his voice a tone of teasing, his eyes gleaming with humour at the indignant stare he was receiving.

“The only scary things I may found in these halls are your attempts at humour, as if there are bad things, whatever makes you think I can’t overpower you if you decided to give in primal acts?” Thranduil questioned quite seriously, Thorin snorted shaking his head.

“I would never think of doing something dishonourable. It doesn’t matter how freaking annoying or arrogant you are.” Thorin scowled turning around. “I think what is down there is worth waking down this dim light, but if you think you can’t do it then you can go back. You are not obliged to follow me.”

Thranduil realized he had offended Thorin, his comment might have leaded the Dwarven-Prince to think of dark, dishonourable things and a part of Thranduil had meant for his comment to be understood as such. Soon, the Elf felt guilty for he knew, even if he didn’t like Thorin, he knew Thorin would never be capable of something so…vile. Thranduil hesitated but soon he caught up to Thorin looking around, biting his lower lip until a voice inside his head told him it was the right thing to do.

“I apologize.” Thorin tensed almost faltering on his footsteps, but the Dwarf continued while listening to Thranduil who was having some difficulty with his apology. “It wasn’t my intention to offend you. At least, not in the way of implying you could fall into such debauchery or such devious acts.”

Thorin glanced back, his black eyes flickering to take in the ethereal features of the Elf. Something inside Thorin softened while the young Prince reached a wooden door closed with a golden lock. Thorin soon shook his head to put away whatever thoughts he may be entertaining regarding the Elven-Prince standing beside him.

“I accept your apology, as long as I have you word you will never imply something so foul of me.” Thorin said looking serious at Thranduil.

Thranduil inclined his head, “You have my word.”

The Elven-Prince then turned to the door furrowing his brows into confusion, “Now, where are we? Why have you brought me to such a place?”

For some reason unknown to him, Thorin felt nervous. He blinked puzzled at the beating of his heart, the shivering hand, the warm he felt at the Elf’s closeness. The Dwarf put a key out of his pocket ready to open the door but he stopped suddenly. He turned around to face Thranduil who glanced at him with questioning eyes.

Thorin gave the Elf a half-smile shrugging while presenting the Prince with the key. Thranduil furrowed his brows glancing at the silvery key, his own hand twitching at his side wondering if he should take it or not.

“Take it, you can open the door.” Thorin finally said.

Silence fell heavy around them, Thranduil realized just how alone they were in this part of the mountain. He realized there was no sound coming from other places; it was only them and their breathing. Thranduil felt his own heart beating fast, he lifted his hand and tried to ignore the warm filling his chest when his fingertips touch the rough skin of Thorin’s hands. The key was heavy on his hand, Thranduil examine the long object with strange patterns.  Thranduil lifted his deep, blue eyes until they found black, gleaming eyes staring back at him.

Thranduil turned fast putting the key in the keyhole turning it around to hear the click in the hall. He opened the door pushing until he was inside a better lit room. It was warm inside and the main source of light came from a forge at the end of the circular room. Disappointment filled Thranduil’s mind who imagine everything but a forge. Thorin chuckled closing the door behind him while turning on a strange ladder. Soon the room was light with silver and gold and the Elven-Prince could see the room better.

“A forge? You took me away from my reading to see another forge?”

“The Royal Forge.” Thorin clarified. “It is only meant for the family. No one but the Royal family can enter in this room.”

Thranduil hesitated flickering his eyes at Thorin then turning around. “Why brought me here then?”

Thorin stopped in front of a work table, the Dwarven-Prince paused looking at Thranduil out of the corner of his eye. Thranduil looked around realizing everything was impeccable in this room, not a single tool was out of place, the floor was clean as it was every single table. There were a few materials in another table, all of them organized and set ready to be worked with.

“My father used to come here from time to time to work on something for him, his… _partners_.” Thorin spat out the last word, looking away while speaking. “He stopped coming here a long time ago. This place is where the Line of Durin has created the most beautiful things of the Kingdom. The crown decorating father’s head, the Throne Room, the Gates of Erebor, the rings, the weapons inherited by the Royal family. Everything we love and craft is forged in here.”

Thranduil eyed Thorin unable to hide his surprised; he was still wondering why he brought him here. A potential enemy sharing a seclude place that it was obvious meant a lot for Thorin.  Thranduil couldn’t help but softened at the gesture, he felt his lips curling up into a gently smile while approaching the table filled with materials. Thorin approached it as well, he was wearing a strange expression, something Thranduil couldn’t read.

“In a few days the end of the year is going to arrive and with it the Winter Festival and a special ritual I’m sure you’ve heard of.” Thorin explained bouncing on his feet gluing his eyes to the table and trying very hard to not stare at Thranduil.

“Do you mean the Fly of the Lanterns tradition?” Thranduil questioned furrowing his brows. “I’ve heard of it, I found it… _fascinating.”_

Thorin smirked turning to Thranduil who was rolling his eyes grudgingly.

“Oh, you accept then, you were enchanted by our festivals and rituals?” Thorin teased, Thranduil pursed his lips but the Dwarf could tell Thranduil was ready to give in.

“I do not admit to anything, Thorin. I merely think it’s a curious festival.”

“Prince Thorin, it may take some time, but it actually sounds better when you said it.”

Thranduil snorted hating the fact his cheeks seemed to warm under the cheeky comment. Thorin smirked triumphal turning to the table once more.

“There is something you need to learn about us Dwarves and about this tradition.” Thorin changed his tone into a more business-like one.

Thranduil quirked a brow glancing at Thorin with reluctant interested, Thorin picked one of the tool from the table playing with it before speaking again.

“We work with our hands, crafting beautiful things out of metal, gems, stone, wood and whatever else nature and Äule gifts us with.” Thorin inclined his head, his black eyes seeking Thranduil’s one. When he was sure Thranduil couldn’t and wouldn’t look away from him, Thorin continued.

“Creating new, beautiful things is what we do best; working on things we love is what brings us real satisfaction.” Thorin then placed the tool on his hand on Thranduil’s hand; the Elven-Prince glanced at Thorin unable to move his hand away when the warm coming from Thorin engulfed him.

“For the Lantern tradition we create our own lanterns, we pour our soul and heart while making them. Our wishes, our hopes go with them when we free them into the sky.” Thorin then presented the table to Thranduil, there was doubt sneaking into his eyes and Thranduil found himself giving in.

“I have brought you here so we can work together on your lantern and mine.” This time around Thranduil noticed Thorin’s sudden timidity as he spoke this last part. “We can…I mean, you can craft yours and wish upon this light into the sky, you can wish for whatever it is your heart desires and I believe it would be granted to you.”

“Why?”

Thranduil asked before he could contain himself, Thorin turned to him feeling self-conscious. For a brief moment neither of them spoke, they just stare at each other aware of the strange moment between them. Thorin vacillate for a second before answering.

“Because, you are a fair one, of that I don’t have any doubt. Perhaps, Eärendil may listen to you when he never listened to me.”

Thranduil didn’t ask more questions, instead he grabbed the closest piece of metal he found with a piercing heart he turned to Thorin, the words strangers on his mouth.

“Then, by all mean, Prince Thorin, teach me how to fabricate one of these lanterns.”

Thorin smiled his first very real smile in a long time and soon Thranduil found himself returning the smile with a truthful one of his own. They didn’t know how long it happened, how long they worked together in the private forge; but when they finally left the room and joined the world outside something inside them had shifted while the oncoming storm approached them without  mercy.

 

 


	5. The Winter Festival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bard does something crazy, Thranduil feels guilty, Thráin is desiring what he can't never had and Thorin is starting to feel things he never did before.

**Chapter 5**

**The Winter Festival**

 

King Bard stepped away from the warm of his palace to join the rest of his guard. Bain came running right behind him; the young Prince wore a heavy cloak over his clothes, the excitement was evident on his features when he was helped to mount his horse. Bard smiled back at his son, his heart heavy with sorrow and anticipation as he set a route for the Lonely Mountain.

“We will be back in a few days.” Bard said in a beaming voice, his dark eyes turned to his oldest daughter who was smiling at him with sadness. “Are you sure you don’t want to come? Alfrid can take care of the Kingdom’s business while we are out, if you want to.”

Sigrid approached his father’s horse; the man tensed lowering his gaze towards his daughter. Of all his children, only Sigrid was his confidant of the pain afflicting his heart. The young woman placed her hand on Dark Storm who calmed nuzzling the woman’s hand.

“I’m not overly found of three days of riding to get to the Mountain.” The young woman checked her father for a moment, Sigrid led closer to his father making sure only he could listen to her. “Father, do take care of yourself, please. Don’t go around doing anything foolish.”

“My sweet girl you remind me of your mother, have I ever tell you that?” Bard questioned smiling sadly at Sigrid.

“Every time I tell you to not do something foolish.” Sigrid replied, she wished her father hadn’t fallen in love with the Elven-Prince, she wished her mother was still alive making sure Bard was still happy.

“I promise you I won’t do anything foolish; but you know I can’t stay here any longer.” The King answered back gently, he tried to smile but stopped as soon as hi daughter placed a hand on his knee.

“Promise me after this you will try to be happy again. Promise me this is only a journey to seek closure and nothing else.” Sigrid had been against the idea of the King travelling all the way towards Erebor to attend the Winter Festival. Ever since they grew older, Bard had stopped attending the celebrations only sending emissaries in his name.

This time around it was different; this time around Bard was attending the festivities alongside Bain with only one goal in mind: Thranduil.  He had waited for more than a month to receive the invitation and accepted it immediately, his heart beating with anticipation at the oncoming encounter with his lover. This time around, in the midst of ale and music, he would approach Thranduil to let the Elf know of the longing in his heart. Bard had decided a long time ago he wouldn’t lose Thranduil, not when his heart beat for the mere tough of the other male. King Bard glanced at his daughter leaning in to grab her hand; he squeezed it lightly locking his eyes to her.

“I promise you.” He said feeling a pang of regret when Sigrid smiled back at him buying his lie.

“Come on, Da!! I race you!” Bain rushed his horse riding down the road with laughter following after.

Bard chuckled shaking his head while grabbing his horse’s rains, “I better go after him before he falls off again.”

“You better do. Take care, both of you.”

Sigrid watched as his father and brother left, the Royal guard following closed behind with the blue banner of the Kingdom following both monarchs close behind. The young woman felt her heart shrank at the thought of his father’s suffering and what he might do once he came across Prince Thranduil again. She begged to the gods for mercy and to stop his father for doing something foolish and, perhaps, for Prince Thranduil to find it in his heart the same love her father professed him. Somehow, Sigrid knew for all their intimate encounters, Prince Thranduil had never allowed himself to love his father.

“Sigrid? Are you well?” Sigrid glanced down to see Tilda tilting her head grabbing her robes. “Is Da gone?”

“Yes, he is. Come, you and I will have fun on our own while the boys go around sweating and smelling.” Sigrid picked the little girl up poking her nose while Tilda giggled making faces at the mention of smelly boys.

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

The morning of the Winter Festival, and the last day of the year, welcomed the guests and the Dwarves of Erebor in the midst of snow falling and cold breezes.

Prince Thorin had made sure everything was at the ready he welcomed every dignitary who arrived the morning of the Winter Festival; he was surprised to see King Bard attending and he was even more surprised when the King spoke with indifference to him. But Thorin didn’t have enough time to pounder this; he kept on welcoming the guests and getting everything ready for the lunch. The sun was starting to approach the horizon and the Dwarven-Prince wondered, not for the first time, if Thranduil had already awoken. The last couple of days the Prince had been acting, strange, off ever since they shared that alone time in the private forge. Thorin shook his head shaking away the thoughts of Thranduil from his mind, lately it seemed as if the blast Elf had made it his mission to sneak inside his thoughts whenever Thorin lowered his guard.

“Here comes Lord Orik of the Dwarven Land of Khand, near the cost of what they called the Sea of Rhûn.” Dwalin said to Thorin’s ear. “It is the only protectorate we have in the far- east.”

“Lord Orik, it is a pleasure to welcome you to Erebor.” Thorin advanced, the old Lord smiled gently at Thorin, his eyes narrowed slightly and Thorin could see the glint of intelligence there.

“My Prince.” Lord Orik bowed deeply. “I feel honoured to be welcome by you, my Lord.”

“The honour is mine.” Thorin said smiling back at the Dwarf. “Please, let my people guided you to your rooms.”

“It is good to be here, perhaps, after the festivities Prince Thorin would grant me the pleasure of an audience.” Lord Orik spoke softly placing is hand on Thorin’s right arm. “It is of utmost importance for Khand and the well-being of our Kingdom.”

Thorin furrowed his brows; he glanced at Dwalin who was looking as perplexed as the Prince. If Dwalin, one of the best spies in the Kingdom was looking like this then the information may be of great importance. Thorin placed his left hand on top of the old Dwarf’s hand nodding briefly.

“Of course, you have my word I will reach you to have this conversation.”

Lord Orik seemed relief; he bowed again before moving away. Thorin turned to Dwalin making sure no one was hearing him.

“What the hell was that?”

“I don’t have any idea, My Prince.” Dwalin whispered back. “But I swore to you I will find out before you meet with the old Dwarf.”

*****

Prince Thranduil awoke with a start.

He felt his heart beat fastened, his skin covered with a thin layer of sweat, his breathing laboured while his nether regions felt warm and sensitive. Thranduil cursed himself for having forgotten this important piece of his body; he had entered a new cycle in a strangers land with dreams plaguing his mind. He hated being in heat, he hated even more since he lost Haldir. His dreams that were the first sign of his new cycle usually brought back the memories of those days spent with his lover. Thranduil dreamt about the past, he dreamt about what was and could never be. He closed his eyes tightly remembering the touches, the kisses, and the passion from a lifetime ago. The Elven Prince swallowed trying to control his emotions, he knew touching himself would only worsen his state but his right arm was twitching at his side and his erection was demanding attention.

He let out a breathy moan as his hand found his erection, his heart fluttered with longing when he saw blond hair, grey eyes, mischievous smile. He remembered those words whispered with love, with need and soon his mind took him to those moments of passion they shared. Thranduil worked his hand, stroking himself slowly, teasing his own arousal as he remembered. Another moan escaped his mouth, he was so close and just before he reached his climax he saw them, he saw them as clear as he had seen them that day at the forge: Thorin’s black eyes shining with amusement, looking at him…making him feel…arguing with him…

Thranduil opened his eyes placing his arms to each side of his body, he clenched his jaw turning around and standing up. Trembling, the Elven-Prince made his way to his bath needing a cold shower; he would not touch himself or allow himself to come to images of the blast Dwarf in his mind. It doesn’t matter how aroused he felt or how his damned state made him feel.

By the time Thranduil was ready to attend the Festival, he was driving himself mad with need. He could only think of what he had done that morning, how he had felt and how much he needed to reach his climax. But Thranduil was strong, his status as an omega in his Realm had never been a determinant of his acts or his own behaviour as a Prince or an Elf. If he were to be honest, this was the first time he felt as if control was not on his side. Thranduil glanced at his reflection glancing at his figured critically, while he was grateful he wasn’t in Mirkwood he wasn’t overly found of the idea of going around Erebor in his state. Even if the mortals didn’t know or couldn’t even smell his cycle, they would stare and would wonder why they had never noticed such a beautiful creature before. Thranduil cracked a bitter smile clenching his fists tightly.

The Elven-prince then fixed the circlet around his forehead holding his golden hair in place, his skin felt soft and sensitive, with a particular gleam making him look more entrancing. He had chosen on black leggings, high black boots, and a silver-bluish tunic. Everything fell in place on his strong body, his clear blue eyes contrasting with the blue from his tunic, the silver and the black colouring making contrast with his white skin. Thranduil smirked at his own reflection feeling ready to enjoy the festival and leave all the presents open-mouthed; the Elven-Prince was soon awoken from his contemplation when the door of his room banged open to show an enthusiastic Legolas.

“Ada!” As soon as Legolas entered the room he stopped, his eyes going wide open in shock while his grin was soon wiped out. “Ada, you…Are you well?”

This was the part Thranduil hated the most, his son could sense the changed in scent coming from his father. While Legolas or Thranduil would never feel attraction due to their kinship, the young Elf was still able to sense the changes in his father. Soon Legolas stood blocking the door where Glorfindel made his appearance, the Captain opened his eyes wide looking at Thranduil with just a hint of worry in his eyes.

“You are in heat.” The Captain said gravelly, Legolas shot Glorfindel a warning glare.

“I know.” Thranduil replied aware of how uncomfortable Legolas was feeling at the moment. In all the years they had spent together, Legolas had always allowed his father the privacy of his cycle while watching over him but never before had they acknowledge Thranduil’s condition.

“How are you feeling? I’m sorry my friend, I forgot about it.” Glorfindel inclined his head, his nostrils contracting at the intoxicating scent in the room.  “You seem particular stunning today, by the way.

Legolas growled staring at his teacher with his arms crossed, Glorfindel lifted his hands in a sign of peace smiling gently at his young apprentice.  Glorfindel and Thranduil had been raised together, the very first time Thranduil realized he was a male child-bearer, an omega, Glorfindel swore to always be there to protect him if needed be. Even when he felt affect slightly by this change, Glorfindel had always kept his promise, never approaching Thranduil with second intentions. Legolas however felt protective of his father even when Glorfindel was around, Thranduil smirked at the Captain who was paying the mistake of his teasing.

“Peace, my Prince, I was merely joking.” Glorfindel stared at Legolas who soon relaxed. “I would never approach your father like that. He is like a brother to me.”

“I know, Master, sorry.” Legolas replied uncomfortably, he glanced at his father then at Glorfindel. “It’s just…”

“I know, believe me.” Glorfindel answered lifting his head. “How are you feeling, Thranduil?”

“I’m fine, uncomfortable, embarrassed.”  Thranduil replied grimacing, he approached his son placing a hand on the young elf’s shoulder.

Legolas furrowed his brows worriedly, he looked over at Glorfindel then back at his father; while Elves were self-restrained creatures and would never give in primal emotions Legolas wasn’t sure the rest of Men and Dwarves were the same.

“Ada, is it safe for you to go to the celebrations? What if someone notices…?” Legolas trailed off when Glorfindel made a noise shooting Thranduil a reproachful stare; “What? What is it?”

“I almost forgot that you haven’t been out the Realm for far too long and this kind of information we all avoid in conversations.” Thranduil replied to his son.

“I can’t believe you haven’t told him, you should have done so a long time ago, my friend.” Glorfindel shook his head furrowing his brows.

“What? What is it you forgot to tell me?”

Thranduil smiled gently at his son, loving his protective nature, “I will be fine, Legolas. The Eldar had been blessed with many gifts, immortality, strength and the way we procreated or created a bound with our fated mates.”

“I know of this, father. That’s why…” Legolas trailed off shrugging. “That’s why I am your son.”

“Yes, but what I failed to tell you and, apparently you failed to listen during your classes.” Here Legolas actually grimaced looking guiltily at Thranduil. “Is that Men, Dwarves, Hobbits and other races aren’t made the same way we are. They do not have this particularity in their lives, they don’t have alphas or omegas, and thus, they can't sense or feel the changes in me.”

Legolas felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment, he felt this was something he should have learn during those boring lessons back in Mirkwood. He didn’t dare to look at Glorfindel but the other Elf merely chuckled shooting a comforting smile to his student.

“Don’t worry about it, you didn’t need to know until the time was right and now is that time.” Glorfindel said, and then his smile turned into a mischievous smirk, his eyes dancing amusedly while staring at Thranduil. “Really Legolas, the only thing you have to be worried about tonight is that your father would be stared at more so than usual.”

Thranduil rolled his eyes; Legolas seemed rather annoyed at this comment. The young Elf had learn the dwarves inside the mountain felt curious about them, but most of the stares coming from the males and the females and even some of the Men and Elves coming through the mountain would centre on his father. Of course, Legolas knew his father was beautiful, even for an Elda he was always oozing beauty and grandeur.

“I don’t think I like this better and, really, how is it any different than when we were back home?” Legolas questioned rather annoyed, back in Mirkwood he would growl and the lesser Elves would look away, in here he had growled but it didn’t have any effects on the Dwarves.

“Ion-nin, you need not to worry.” Thranduil wrapped his arms around his son who allowed the gesture with a comforting smile. “Mortals can’t catch my scent; it doesn’t work that way for them. The only thing they would get a glimpse of is my Fëa which would make me even more ethereal in front of them.”

“You promise me is going to be all right?” Legolas asked still a little sceptical. “I mean, I have seen the way Prince Thorin looks at you, and while that doesn’t bother me so much, the way King Thráin stares at you makes me…uneasy.”

Glorfindel shot a glance at Thranduil he was half-amused, half-worried by what his young protégée had just said.

“Oh, I notice it too. I believe we better watch those two tonight, don’t you think Legolas?” Glorfindel said teasingly. “I mean, your father does seem more distracted since that strange meeting with Thorin the other day?”

Thranduil rolled his eyes slapping Glorfindel on his shoulder; Legolas for his part crossed his arms narrowing his eyes at his father.

“Now that I think about it, what were you doing with him, father?”

“Very well, you two stop right there. Nothing. Nothing at all happen that day.” Thranduil sighed placing his hands on his son’s shoulders. “Nothing happen and I shouldn’t be addressing this absurd comment.”

Glorfindel smirked arching his brow at his Prince; Thranduil glared but didn’t say anything else while Legolas was unsure as to how to react with all of this new information. This would be the first time his father was outside the protecting barrier of the Kingdom and King Oropher and, while Legolas knew his father was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, this didn’t mean the young Elf didn’t worry for his father. Legolas had seen his father be the subjected of many unwanted stares from those lowly Elves who didn’t know their place, Legolas also knew none in the Woodland Realm and really not any decent and good Elf would ever approach an Omega without asking for permission first. But Men, Dwarves and even Hobbits were another matter; Legolas wished he had paid more attention to his classes instead of going around running with Elros and Elrohir while his teachers were trying to explain this part.

Thranduil felt like smiling, ruffling his son’s hair, “Stop worrying yourself, Ion-nin. We are made differently than the rest of the races, who we are and what we are cannot affect them in any way.”

Just as Thranduil finished saying this there was a knock at the door, the Elven-Prince furrowed his brows while Glorfindel made his way to the living room and then to the main door. Thranduil led Legolas out of his room entering the living room just in time to see Dís, Bilbo and Thorin there. For a brief moment, Thorin opened his mouth to speak but the Dwarf found himself stumbling over his words. Bilbo too was highly distracted tilting his head with curious eyes glancing at the Elven-Prince. Dís from her part shot her brother a puzzle stare before realization appeared in her dark eyes.

“Thorin!” Dís hit his brother on his arm, the Dwarven-Prince shook his head scowling deeply, Thranduil narrowed his eyes at Glorfindel who was grinning like a fool while Legolas was torn between being annoyed and amused.

“Yes, right we…” Thorin trailed off when his eyes found those of Thranduil who was looking less than impressed at the lack of words from the dwarf.

“Is there any intelligent and coherent sentence behind your blabbering, Prince Thorin? Or do we have to wait for spring for you to start talking intelligently?” Thranduil inquired with sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Thorin collected himself almost immediately he shook his head while his brows creased in confusion and self-recrimination for his slid. He didn’t know what came onto him, it wasn’t as if this was the first time he saw the Elven-Prince, it certainly wasn’t the first time he saw him wearing black and silver and blue not the first time he thought of the Elven-Prince as a _entrancing_ creature. But that day, that mid-morning, the Elf was looking more than alluring; he was looking like a charm, dangerous and beautiful. Dís from her part was far too amused to interrupt; she exchanged a brief stare with Bilbo who was sharing her same amusement.

“I’m not blabbing!” Thorin exclaimed crossing his arms, “I was merely contemplating the wisdom behind the need to escort you to the Hall of Thrór.”

“Of course, the staring and the stuttering was just part of a great plan.” Thranduil replied, his eyes gleaming with mock, his lips curling into a smirk.

“Oh, please, don’t flatter yourself, _dear_.” Thorin drawled hating the fact he was caught doing exactly that. “I’ve seen more beautiful things in the midst of an orc camp.”

Thranduil narrowed his eyes walking towards Thorin who couldn’t help but tense, the Elven-Prince moved past the Dwarf pushing him away before tilting his head, his lips curled up.

“And yet, you found me beautiful.”

“In your dreams!”

“As if! I do like to sleep at night, _dwarf!_ Do not wish upon me the terror of your presence in my dreams!”

“What’s the matter, _elf?_ Afraid you may like it?”

“I prefer to dream with one of those war-goats than you.”

“That can be arranged.”

Bilbo rolled his eyes watching both Princes leaving the room while shouting insults back and forth, Dís couldn’t help but started laughing, she crossed her arms to stare at Glorfindel who shared her amusement. Legolas for his part was torn between looking indignant, protective but a little amuse as well.

“Is this always like that?” Dís finally asked, while she had seen the interaction between Thorin and Thranduil she never thought they usually got into a fight before going to more civilized methods of conversation.

“Always.” Glorfindel replied fondly. “I’m starting to think they enjoy it.”

“But, they are too stubborn to admit it.” Bilbo continued nodding.

“He looks quite astonishing today.” Dís commented offhandedly, Glorfindel tensed lightly Legolas turned to the Dwarf Queen who was shooting them inquiring stares.

“My Lady, please, this is a private family matter.” Legolas spoke, his voice leaving no room for an argument. “Prince Thranduil has always been quite the handsome Elf, even for our Race.”

Dís stared down at the young Elf nodding, “Do not worry, Prince Legolas. I’ve been around Elves enough to understand. I will make no mention of this, but I need to make sure so we all can look after him, he will get many stares today.”

Legolas furrowed his brows shooting a quick glance at Glorfindel; his master stared back allowing Legolas to make the decisions.

“You know about Prince Thranduil?” Legolas spoke. “You know about us?”

“Of course, you don’t get to be a Queen without knowing all you need to know about your neighbours.” Dís commented. “While many may not understand or know, let me assure you I understand the privacy of the matter and I will watch myself and make sure everyone else watch themselves around him. Although, you need not to worry, my brother’s behaviour is the perfect sample of what every mortal may feel around him.”

“See? No need to worry, he is going to be stared at more so than usual, but if you look this from my point of view, it is going to be fun to tease him afterwards.” Glorfindel commented chuckling, the Captain soon lifted his arms in a sign of peace when Legolas growled at him again.

“You shouldn’t, Master.” Legolas reprimanded but a part of him knew this seemed to be a game between Glorfindel and Thranduil.

“My dear, Prince, I just mean it as a jest. Your brother enjoys bothering me from time to time; it is only fair I do my part. Besides, I’m starting to think if anyone is to get closer to him they will have Prince Thorin growling at them.” Glorfindel clarified winking at his young student; Legolas couldn’t help but snort shaking his head.

Legolas stayed behind with Dís while Glorfindel and Bilbo made their way out of the room, the young Prince didn’t know if he felt comforted by Glorfindel’s words or not. The Queen of Ered Luin approached him and soon Legolas offered the she-dwarf his arm, Dís hooked her right hand on Legolas’ arm.

“This is your first time in the Winter Festival, is it not, Prince Legolas?”

“Yes, Ma’am, it is.” Legolas smiled a little. “I’m quite excited, actually. Prince Thorin and the rest of the company had done nothing but share with me some of the details and their past experiences.”

Dís chuckled, “I bet they did. Thorin seems to have a high regard of you.”

Legolas looked flustered, his lips curling up into a content smile. “Does he really? I’m glad. I never thought I could like Dwarves so much.”

Legolas opened his eyes turning to Dís who raised her brows at him; the young Elf shook his head trying to look apologetically.

“No, my Lady, please, what I mean is…I’ve heard the stories and I know of the enmity amongst our people.” Legolas trailed off so Dís decided to finish his thoughts for him.

“And, it didn’t help matters when you found out your older brother was engage to one, living far away from home.” Dís held Legolas’ eyes and soon the young Prince nod.

“Yes, it is difficult.” Legolas looked ahead of them where he could see his father still arguing with Thorin.  “I just wish this was not put upon his shoulders. Prince Thranduil has suffered a great deal before, I just wish for him to be happy.”

Dís sighed shaking her head, “We both wish the same for our oldest brothers. I too hope Thorin can be happy.”

“But a force marriage can’t make anyone happy.” Legolas replied, but his own heart started doubting the veracity of his words. It wasn’t so much about the arrange marriage what really bothered him, it was the fact his father might fall for the Dwarf and had his heart broken all over again. He remembered the stories; he remembered what his grandfather told him, if Legolas had not been born, Thranduil would have given in mortal fading setting his path towards the undying lands.

“I believe, Prince Legolas, we should then make sure they are happy.” Dís said softly patting the Prince’s arm. “And that being around one another is not a tragedy as they want us to believe. You cannot deny they seem more comfortable around each other as time passes by.”

Legolas opened his mouth to argue with the Queen but soon he stopped when the bickering stopped and Thorin and Thranduil started a more civilized conversation. He glanced at his father who seemed to relax as he grew comfortable around the Dwarven-Prince. Thorin had always been more open, he tended to just dive in without think all too well about the consequences so usually he was the more relax of the two. Legolas watched closing his mouth while wondering what was happening.

“I guess you are right.”

“You don’t seem happy.” Dís shook her head gifting Legolas with a kind smile. “Don’t worry; what happens will happen with or without our intervention. The important thing is their future happiness, right?”

“Yes, only their happiness.” If there was a moment in his young life Legolas felt more confused than anything, it was this moment. He couldn’t comprehend the strange smile on Dís face nor why he felt as if he should go out there and protect his father for the smiling Thorin. His overprotective nature reacting faster than his own thoughts.

“Well the, that’s settle, we will make sure they are happy.” Dís said resolutely. “Now, let us enjoy this day, you won’t regret it, Prince Legolas.”

*****

Bain had noticed the strange way his father was behaving.

The King had been anxious as they approached the Mountain, by the time they were getting ready to attend the welcoming lunch his father was just trying to act normally. The young Prince, however, didn’t mention this and instead he put on his formal clothes and waited for his father. Bard excited his room wearing his black leather pants with high boots; he wore a linen, red shirt under a black vest with vembrances adorning his arms. He smiled at his son having shaved his beard and fixing his hair. Bain furrowed his brows wondering if perhaps this trip to the mountain had something else to do than just the Winter Festival.

“Are you ready?” Bard asked his son.

“Yes, father, are you expecting to see someone special?” Bain smiled at his father when the man cleared his throat lowering his gaze.

“Let’s go, don’t ask foolish questions.” Bard grabbed his son teasingly while the young boy chuckled.

The both of them were escorted to the Hall and then led to the main table where King Thráin was already sitting down on the highest chair at the table. Thráin quirked a brow in surprised but nevertheless greeted the man from Esgaroth with a thunderous voice.

“Welcome, King Bard! It is a pleasant surprise to have you with us today.”

“My Lord, it is my pleasure and I thank you for the invitation.” Bard and Bain bowed graciously at the King who waved away at them.

“Good, good, we are waiting for my son and my future son-in law, but you can go and sit on the left.” King Thráin replied not really noticing the perk up expression on Bard at the mention of the King’s future son in law.

Bard sat down with his son and soon their goblets were filled with wine as light talk went all through the table and the Hall. Moments passed until several conversations died around Bard, he lifted his head to see the Royal Highnesses of the Woodland Realm and Erebor entered the Hall. Never before had Bard seen Thranduil looking so beautiful, there was something otherworldly about the Elf as he entered the room and called most of the looks inside the Hall. Bard felt his heart losing a beat as those clear blue eyes found his, it lasted for a second and soon Thranduil was looking away engaged in a conversation with the Dwarf standing beside him. Something inside Bard stirred, it was more than desire and lust, it was deep and painful, Bard felt pure and unaltered love when he set his eyes on Thranduil. For the very first time, The King of Dale felt fear and intense need to have Thranduil by his side, to be Bard and not Thorin the one escorting Thranduil around the Hall to the table.

Bard shifted on the chair wanting to go over there and talk to Thranduil, to approach the Elf and perhaps make him understand why he should sit beside the King of Dale and not the Prince of Erebor. But Bard was still in control of himself thus he stayed put, his eyes following with hunger, need and affection the Elven-Prince who seemed tensed glaring down at the Dwarven-Prince who was rolling his eyes before signalling a chair. The King of Dale narrowed his eyes, his heart beating with hope when he remembered the engagement had been arranged, that perhaps there was no love or affection within both Princes and Bard could use this to his advantage.

Everyone was getting set on the table, the waitresses were starting to fill the golden goblets with the finest wine in the mountain and food was being served.  Bard tilted his head staring intently at Thranduil, calling the Elven-Prince with his thoughts until, after what seemed like an eternity Thranduil finally looked back. There was a moment in which Bard could not breathe; he could just stare trying to expose himself to the Elf. Thranduil held his glance, something stirring deep inside those blue eyes but the moment was broken when Thorin did something to distract the Elf. Bard hated him, he hated Thorin and he hated the Dwarf could lean in and take Thranduil’s attention away from him.  With bitterness filling up his heart, Bard took his goblet turning his head to hear the oncoming speech from King Thráin.

King Thráin had seen his son entered the room alongside the Elf. Thráin knew what usage the Elf held for his Realm, he never set his eyes on the Elf himself mainly because he felt nothing but disgust and animosity towards the accursed race. But now, watching Thranduil gleaming like an untouched gem, being exposed as if it was Thorin’s right to hold onto such a precious gemstone, the Dwarven King couldn’t help but feel desire and envy, his mind working dark thoughts to find a way to possess such a light before his first born would tainted it with his incompetency.

It was Glorfindel along with Bilbo and Balin the only ones to notice the reaction of King Bard to Thranduil’s arrival. While it was true Thranduil was stared off more so than usual, only one of those gazes held something else, only one set of eyes showed something else regarding the Elf. Glorfindel went serious sitting down while making sure to watch over the King all through the rest of the celebration. Dís from her part had been the only one in the whole room to notice her father. She had been looking attentively at the King when Thranduil and Thorin arrived, his father’s eyes had darkened and he too was soon charmed by the ethereal beauty of the Elf. Never before had Thráin laid eyes upon the Elf, not until that day in which the Elf looked like an apparition, a godly gift from Äule himself. Dís felt trepidation grasped her heart when her father’s features tensed and his eyes grew wide in greed.

King Thráin stood up suddenly, regarding everyone with a high head and pride shining in his eyes, the King lifted his golden cup lifting his left hand waiting for the Hall to be silent. It didn’t take long, soon everyone was seated with their heads turned to the King Under The Mountain, the Dwarf smirked loving the attention he was receiving, knowing everything in this room was _his_. Even his allies would fall under his command if the dark news about the oncoming storm were right. The King allowed himself a slow swept of the room regarding each and every single dignitary of other Kingdoms, the Kings and the Princes presents, everyone had their attention on him.

“My dear guests! Welcome to another Winter Festival Under the Mountain!” Thráin waited for the clapping to die off before continuing. “I must say this was a great year and the next one promises to be the best of all Erebor’s history since Durin the Deathless came to the Mountain.”

Thorin tensed watching cautiously at his father who had extended his hands while his thunderous voice filled the Hall. To his side, he could sense Thranduil feeling just as stiff as him the both of them soon found themselves the subject of the strange look the King dedicated them.

“Not only is _my_ Kingdom going to be more prospering and wealthy, I am also tying friendship and marriage ties with my allies, the Elves of Mirkwood.” There were some claps; some of the curious Dwarves glanced at the Elves admiring the beauty of their Prince. “By this time next year Mirkwood and Erebor are going to be _one.”_

Thranduil tried to maintain his face expressionless but his mind was already trying to read the meaning of these words as the King continued speaking about prosperity, how the Dwarven Kingdom had grown thanks to him and only him. The words seemed to reach everyone in the room but only those who were paying close attention seemed to understand the meaning behind the speech. Thráin became more arrogant with each word, he spoke of the deeds he had done all through the year to make _his_ kingdom magnificent. It was always _his_ , it was always _him._ But no one, not even Thorin dared to contradict him and the rest of the room seemed to accept what the King was saying.

“Now, I will give my blessing for this Winter Festival to beginning! Let us eat and drink amongst friends!” King Thráin lifted his cup and everyone present did the same, there was a moment in which Thráin flickered his eyes to Thranduil his smirk growing darkly. “For the new year! May Äule give all of you your heart’s desires.”

Everyone cheered drinking in time with the Dwarven-King, as soon as the wine left the cups and freshened the throats music filled the Hall and everyone started eating. No one said nothing, some were still musing over the words the King had spoken regarding war, dark times, and Erebor as a beacon of peace, light and strength. Some others were still wondering what he meant about the wealth and the richness under the mountain when there were some serious problems the King refused to attended.  Some others, like the Elves, were wondering just what exactly Thráin meant when he talk about uniting Kingdoms and extending his influenced to the Woodland Realm.  

“You should try the pie.” Thranduil flickered his eyes to Thorin who was grabbing a silver plate with a round pie on it. The Elven-Prince made a face, never quite found of pie before, but Thorin offered it to him and he knew there were prying eyes watching their every move. King Thráin was one of those eyes.

“What has in it?” Thranduil asked cutting a piece for him, after a moment’s hesitation he cut another and placed it on Thorin’s plate.

“Aw, look at you, _dear_ acting the faithful husband’s role.” Thorin teased he yelped when someone hit him on his ankle.

“Sorry, dear, did I hit you too hard?” Thranduil smiled coldly at Thorin. “If it wasn’t for all the eyes watching this I would put the pie on your head.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it; however, I find it curious you think I will allow it.” Thorin replied smirking when the Elf let out a whimper when the Dwarf’s foot made rough contact with his shin.

Legolas lifted his face from his plate to look over at his father, the young Elf soon sighed heavily holding back any other emotion from his face. Dís stood up smiling politely while approaching both Princes who were discussing in harsh whispers.

“I’m just saying you should try it! Bilbo made it.” Thorin said, “You never have a problem with his pies before.”

“I wasn’t eating pie, _Sweetie._ It hurts me you never even notice it.” Thranduil replied feeling anything but sorry.

“Either you two stop acting like children or I swear to Äule and the rest of the Valar I will put you both out of here from your ears.” Dís hadn’t lost her composure or the smile adorning her lips, but her tone of voice didn’t leave any room for an argument.

Thranduil was looking perplex, he turned to Thorin and the Elven-Prince thought the reprimand was totally worth it if he saw just how nervous Thorin looked under his sister stare.

“I’m sorry, Lady Dís. Old habits.” Thranduil replied smirking at Thorin, and then the Elven-Prince did something he would regret later. Thranduil leaned in placing a soft kiss on Thorin’s right cheek; Thorin stiffed feeling the soft contact of those lips on his cheek, he jerked away surprised, his eyes wide open while regarding the Elf.

“Come on, _dear_ , we have to act the part.”

Thranduil then turned around focusing his attention on the food; Thorin glanced at him for a long time before he too returned to his food. Dís stood there undecided as to what to do, what had happened had been strange and she feared it had more unwanted reactions than both Princes could take notice of. When Dís turned her eyes to her father she could only see darkness mixed with coldness, the King soon diverted his eyes from his son and the Elf to speak with some Dwarf. Then the Queen of Ered Luin realized there was someone else in the room looking over at both Princes with a clear show of jealousy on his face, King Bard was ready to do something foolish his dark eyes gazing with intensity at Thranduil.

The Elven-Prince from his part started to analyse what he had just done. A moment of craziness and need, an after effect of his heat and his own primal needs; he usually was more controlled over his needs but there was something about the celebrations, about the way Thorin had been staring at him…about the way Bard had been devouring him all through the lunch. Thranduil knew he would need to get under control if he were to demand any answers from the King of Dale. And answers he would demand, when he arrived to the Hall the last person he thought he would find there was Bard and yet, here it was the man looking at him with the same affection and desire he reserved for the Elven-Prince. Thranduil thought he had made it clear on their last meeting, but a part of him knew they hand really spoken about ending their affair.

_Do you really want it to be over?_

It was a valid question.

Thranduil played with his food some more afraid to answer, he took a bite of the pie Thorin had offered him biting hesitantly. Thorin tilted his head gauging the Elf’s reaction, at first Thranduil seemed uneasy, but soon the Elf nodded in satisfaction.

“I knew you would like it.” Thorin said.

“I didn’t say I like it.” Thranduil replied intend on contradicting Thorin, the Dwarven-Prince smirk at him.

“You didn’t have to, I could read it in your face.” Thorin replied smugly, Thranduil actually snort shaking his head.

“Liar, I didn’t give my expression away.”

“You did.” Thorin answered blinking at Thranduil as if it had been kind of obvious for the Elf as well, when Thranduil looked perplexed at him Thorin continued. “You do this thing with your eyes, it’s small but when you agree with something you half-close your eyes with a push of your lips, and your eyes gleam lightly.”

Thorin was so proud of himself, he thought he had beat the Elf at his own game of denial. But Thorin had been paying attention and he knew Thranduil had enjoyed the pie. There was not living person in the whole Middle-Earth who could say Bilbo didn’t make wonderful pies. Thorin soon realized Thranduil hadn’t stopped staring at him, but the Dwarven-Prince also noticed there was something new behind Thranduil’s expression, something he couldn’t name.

“What? Do I have something on my face or what? Stop staring, elf.” Thorin finally said a little unsettle under the intense stare.

Thranduil shook his head turning around to go back to his food, “Never before has anyone bothered to try and know my facial expressions. I wonder, what else can you read on my face and how long have you known this.”

Thorin then understood why the Elf had gone silent, why he had stared. Thorin shifted shrugging.

“It is not that difficult, when you pay attention.”

An awkward silence formed between them, Thranduil was tempted to ask why Thorin had been paying attention to his facial expressions but the Elven-Prince didn’t think he would like the answer therefore he didn’t ask.  Their silence was soon interrupted by Fíli pulling on Thranduil’s robes and asking to be seated on the Elf’s legs, Thranduil smiled gratefully when he realized Dís had sent her son their way. Soon their silence was filled with happy babbling and Fíli narrating all the things he and Legolas would do that day. Legolas who was seated near his father raised his eyebrows but his smile told the adults he was ready to do everything the young Prince was proposing.

The rest of the meal was spent with both Princes trying to relax and forget the stormy thoughts about the other filling their minds.

*****

Thranduil was pleasantly surprise with the celebrations.

After the formal lunch, Thranduil was dragged by Fíli to the main entertainments that actually involved games and music.  Thranduil found himself the subject of many presentations; people were going around playing tag games or ‘find the treasure’ games. Some young Dwarves were running around with maps on their hands finding clues all through the Hall and the busy streets of Erebor.  In a specific corner there were some others dancing, music seemed to fill the room without clashing with the different songs, if Thranduil were to be honest, the sound was almost magical and a part of him understood the Dwarves love for the mountain.  He watched as a group of Dwarves dress in black and red started dancing around in circles, grabbing themselves by the arms while singing around.  One of the younger ones stared at him for a long time until his partner hit him in the head scowling, the young Dwarf blushed bowing deeply while mumbling something in Khuzdûl only to receive another slap by his companion. Thorin stood beside Thranduil and both Dwarves straightened up, greeting their Prince before scattering away.

“What was that?” Thranduil asked curiously the Elven-Prince saw a glint of annoyance on Thorin’s dark eyes, the Dwarven-Prince lifted his face considering if he should tell Thranduil what happened.

“The young lad wanted to invite you to a dance declaring there was no beauty beyond that of your eyes or the gold of your hair.” Thorin grumbled when Thranduil broke into a smile, the Dwarven-Prince crossed his arms looking away.

“His companion thought he was being quite rude and stupid for daring to…” Here Thorin trailed off, Thranduil turned to the Dwarf but couldn’t even get a read of the other’s face. He wonder how it was possible for Thorin to read him so well and Thranduil, who prided himself of being a good judge of character, couldn’t even guess what Thorin was thinking.

“What? Daring to what?” Thranduil questioned but Thorin merely shrugged focusing his attention on Fíli who was trying to teach Legolas how to dance Dwarf style.

Thranduil was left in perplexity and doubt, he stared at Thorin who ran away as soon as he could without even bothering to finish his comment. Thranduil found himself confused, wondering just what the other Dwarves had said to make Thorin react so strangely.

“Is there something the matter?” Dís asked to his side glancing at him and then at her brother, the she-dwarf chuckled when Fíli scolded Legolas for not following his instructions.

“Yes, I was merely thinking.” Thranduil replied chuckling as well. The dance was not so difficult, but Legolas was way too tall to wrap his arms around the Dwarves and dance alongside them.

“May ask what were you thinking so gravelly?”

Thranduil tilted his head, his blue eyes moving to Thorin who seemed rather entertained by Bilbo, “Yes, I was thinking I need to learn Khuzdûl, if I am to live amongst your people.”

Dís nodded approvingly, “Wise decision, Prince Thranduil, you could ask Orí and Bilbo, they are great teachers. Don’t ask the others, for all their good hearts and readiness they’re not as bright as they appear.”

Thranduil chuckled agreeing with the she-dwarf; soon Dís started talking about the Festival asking Thranduil what he used to do back in the Woodland Realm.  Soon Thranduil found himself sharing a relaxing time with the Dwarves, it was strange but it was nice. For more than a month he had shared his time with them learning to appreciate their behaviour, their jokes and who they really were.  If Thranduil noticed Thorin avoiding him all afternoon, he never mentioned it and for this Thorin felt slightly thankful.

*****

King Bard made sure to never let Thranduil out of his sight.

He tried to approach him on several occasions but he was either interrupted by another noble Dwarf or man or Thranduil was surrounded by Thorin’s companions, Queen Dís or the young blond Elf who stood beside Thranduil like a hawk. Bard knew the perfect time to have a private conversation with Thranduil would be during this celebration; everyone was always so absorbed with the party they hardly noticed each other besides the noise and the amount of people around the mountain made it perfect to sneak with the Elven-Prince away. Something called Bard to Thranduil; he was looking different but as perfect as when Bard laid eyes on him for the very first time.

Even if he was getting impatient, there was something Bard was content about. For all the show, the public appearances and the apparent closeness; Bard could see there was not lost affection or love between Prince Thorin and Prince Thranduil. Bard could see how indifferent Thranduil was acting towards Thorin, he could see how cold and formal he was with Thorin but never with a hint of interest. Thorin for his part seemed to be avoiding Thranduil; he was harsher in his behaviour towards the elf which made Bard’s heart lighter. Bard now knew the engagement had been an arrangement both Princes had been forced upon instead of something they desired. This lit a light of hope in the man, a hope that perhaps he would have a chance to save and be with Thranduil.

Even if Bard thought he was being pretty careful about it, Thranduil had noticed his stare. In fact, Thranduil was pretty sensitive to all the attention he was receiving. He knew there were Dwarves staring at him with mixed feelings of disbelief and appreciation, disbelief because they didn’t explain why an _Elf_ seemed so alluring to them. Appreciation because, Thranduil was looking especially breathtakingly that day; Thranduil knew he needed to be careful, whenever his heat hit him in the midst of celebrations he was more prone to affection and to be non-resistant to dominant traits direct at him. Therefore, the attention he was receiving from his former lover was getting to him and the Elf knew he would have to seek out Bard at another time to clear everything up between them.

Thranduil never thought the opportunity to speak with the man would present itself moments before the Fly of the Lanterns event. Night had already fallen and everyone was getting ready for the main event of the night that would include fireworks and the fire lanterns flying into the sky.

The Hall was filled with people getting excited, children running around with mothers running or screaming after them. Adolescents forming groups while some young adults brought ale singing the songs of the mountain while making the way to the gate. Thranduil spotted Bard sneaking around some columns; he made sure no one was looking his way and followed the man slowly, trying to go unnoticed. The Elven-Prince furrowed his brows in confusion when he realized Bard wasn’t in the place he had seen him go in. Thranduil looked around stepping forward only to have a familiar hand on his pulling him inside a hidden balcony; the cold breeze of the night caressed his heated skin while a pair of full lips crashed against his.

Bard crushed his lips to the other male’s ones, he kissed Thranduil with passion and need, almost groaning when, after a moment’s hesitation, Thranduil answered to the kiss giving in. Thranduil had felt panic at first; he couldn’t see the dark figure dragging him away from the Hall he was ready to fight until the familiar scent of his former lover reached his sense. Bard couldn’t even imagine why Thranduil felt so eager, why he seemed more prone to submit himself but the man didn’t care. He had waited for over a month to have the Elf in his arms and wasn’t about to waste his time.

The Elven-Prince felt dizzy, his own instincts giving in this man his body and his mind already knew. Thranduil’s senses were more sensitive catching the man’s scent, feeling the warm of his hands on his wrists, the more primal part of Thranduil ached to be under the man’s touch, to perhaps turn around and take him as he had done so several times in the past. Thranduil moaned when his mind made him wonder what would feel like to let the man take him, to feel Bard King of Dale deep inside of him like he had never allowed him in the past. Warning bells rang inside Thranduil’s mind when he realized he was losing control under the kiss, startled he pushed Bard away making the man hit the rail. Bard was breathing hard his lips were red, swollen much like Thranduil’s, both were flustered looking at each other with lust and desire tingeing their eyes.

“Bard!” Thranduil finally exclaimed trying to control his own needs while glaring at the man. “What…What do you think you are doing?”

“I’m sorry if I startle you,” Bard said still breathing hard; he incorporated feeling disgruntled at having been interrupted so abruptly.

The man took a step forward but stopped when Thranduil straightened up lifting his right hand to stop him.

“Startle me? You can’t come in here drag me away from the celebrations to…to kiss me!” Thranduil exclaimed trying to keep his voice low.

“You weren’t exactly opposing just a few seconds ago.” Bard tried to smile but the coldness presenting itself in the fair face told him this wasn’t a time to joke around. “Thranduil, it’s been a month, I missed you.”

Thranduil swallowed glancing at Bard, then glancing back at the Hall. He sighed shaking his head; Bard was just right beside him taking Thranduil’s hand in his. The man kissed the knuckles wrapping his right arm around Thranduil. For a second, Thranduil seemed to be giving in; Bard leaned in for another kiss only to meet Thranduil’s rejection. The Elf stepped back shaking his head at the man while letting go of Bard completely.

“Thranduil?” Bard sound pained his black eyes gleaming with unshed tears and love. “Please, don’t do this. I…I stand by my word. I stand by you and what I feel for you, don’t turn away from this.”

“Bard, please.” Thranduil started and soon the Elf realized just how bad he had messed up with the man. He never intended to fall in love with him and thus he never did; Bard had been a relief, a simple diversion from his tormented thoughts. While Thranduil considered Bard a dear friend, he couldn’t bring himself to feel anything else for him.

“No! Don’t tell me you feel nothing! Don’t tell me you…” Bard took a deep breath shaking his head; he approached Thranduil until they were mere inches apart. “I refuse to believe you are the cold, hearted slut the rumours make you out to be! I know you have shared your bed with no one but me! Am I lying?”

“No.” Thranduil answered not giving in standing right in front of Bard, feeling his hot breath on his skin watching the age marking the man’s expression, the desperation sneaking inside his eyes that moments ago held only hope and love.  

“You were the only one I shared my bed with in a long, long time.” Thranduil finally said to Bard, the man stared into blue eyes while wrapping his hand around the Elf’s nape.

“Then why? Why do you keep refusing me?” Bard whispered. “I love you.”

Thranduil closed his eyes placing his hands on top of Bard’s wrists; the Elf lowered his eyes guiltily while stepping aside. Bard stood frozen a piercing pain going through his heart.

“I cannot love you, Bard.” Thranduil said softly, broken. “It was never my intention to lead you to believe what happened between us was nothing else than…”

“…than you using me?” Bard spat out, he laughed bitterly hiding away his tears. “I can make you happy, I can make you fall in love with me.”

“I do not doubt it.” Thranduil answered back looking at the door then turning to Bard. “I am engage, Bard. I cannot dictate my fate more so than you.”

“I can talk to your father, Thranduil.” Bard said softly. “The Dwarf, he doesn’t love you, he doesn’t feel the way I do for you. He can’t make you happy. Do you love him? Is that it?”

Thranduil was so tempted to snort but he held himself, this wasn’t the time to laugh at the absurdity of Bard’s words. The Elven-Prince knew Bard would have done everything to make him happy, but even with all the promises of eternal happiness Thranduil promised himself he would never feel love for anyone that wasn’t his son. It wasn’t an option.

“Don’t be absurd! You are King; you know my marriage with Prince Thorin is nothing else but a political movement.” Thranduil shook his head tiredly. “Bard, I told you we couldn’t see each other anymore…”

“You came to me that night.” Bard said. “You came to me, Thranduil. You told me it would be the last time but I’ve had a month to think about it. I won’t give you up.”

“Bard, think about it. What are you going to do?”

Bard stood there powerless; he glanced at Thranduil with desperation clinging up his heart. He thought this meeting would go in a different way, he thought Thranduil would be more open to him after a month of being apart, he thought the Elf would run to him. How stupid he had been? How childish he felt at the moment. Thranduil had never claimed to love him, but Bard had refused to believe the Elven-Prince was the cold-hearted bastard everyone talked about.  Thranduil was everything but cold-hearted, he was everything bad a slut or a vicious Elf; Bard had seen a side of the Elf no one else had seen.

“I could defy Prince Thorin for the right to be with you.” Bard finally said his eyes gleaming with determination. “I know you can’t break your engagement. I can’t ask this of you, but I can, as a King, ask for a duel to…”

“No!” Thranduil looked horrified for a moment; he approached Bard placing his hands on the man’s shoulders. “Have you gone mad? Why would you do something like this?”

“For you, I love you, I’ll do anything.” Bard whispered he didn’t allow Thranduil to say anything for his lips connect to those of Thranduil.

Thranduil pushed Bard away from him a second time, the Elf stared at Bard glaring at the man. Bard lowered his gaze clenching his fists feeling miserable all over again.

“Is this your answer?” Bard whispered. “I was just a game to you.”

“I told you!” Thranduil replied forcefully. “If we were getting into this affair, no feelings should be involved!”

Bard smiled bitterly shaking his head, “I was an idiot, then.”

“No, I was the idiot.” Thranduil said glancing at Bard. “My affections for you do not go beyond those of friendship.”

“I never had a chance? Really?” Bard moved closer to Thranduil, he was confused, hurt and at the moment he didn’t care about the consequences of his acts. “Did you even consider the possibility? Did you even think you are the most beautiful creature that the Valar had blessed this earth with and that a simple mortal may fall in love with you?”

Thranduil didn’t know how to answer without hurting Bard even more, he stared at Bard for a long time before lowering his gaze.

“No, you never had a chance.” He answered honestly wishing this conversation had gone in a different way. “I never intend to hurt you, while I don’t feel the same love you feel for me…I still held some affection for you, friendly affection.”

Bard clenched his jaw he stared angrily at Thranduil but whatever he was about to say the both of them were interrupted by a running Bilbo, a concern Glorfindel and a serious Dís. The three newcomers glanced around the scene with Dís stepping forward and shooting Bard a cunning stare.

“King Bard, I haven’t had the chance to greet you today.” Dís stepped forward bowing her head. “It has been a long time since I last saw you.”

“It has, Queen Dís.” Bard answered quite annoyed at having been interrupted. “It is quite a surprise to see you in here, Captain Glorfindel and Mr.Baggins, when I was having a private conversation with Prince Thranduil.”

“There are no private conversations with the Elf that it is to become my brother-in-law, King Bard.” Dís commented in a warning tone; she made it clear she knew what kind of conversation the both males were having.

“Are his business your business now, Queen Dís?” Bard replied. “Where is the husband to be? Shouldn’t he be here instead of you?”

“King Bard! Stop it right now.” Thranduil replied sternly, he glanced disbelievingly at Bard who lowered his gaze feeling regretful. “There is nothing else to say. We have spoken already and nothing will change what I already told you.”

“Thranduil…” Bard spoke but at that same moment Thorin appeared at the threshold.

“What are you doing here?” Thorin had arrived having seen Dís entered the balcony, he furrowed his brows when his eyes fell upon Thranduil and then moved towards Bard who was now sending a cold glare his way.

Thorin wasn’t stupid, he could sense the tense atmosphere around all the presents, the Dwarven-Prince had a feeling he just interrupted something important, something he wasn’t mean to witness for the way Bilbo was trying to ignore him. Once again, Thorin turned to Thranduil then to Bard.

 

Bard looked back at the Dwarf his eyes gleaming dangerously as they focused on the Dwarven-Prince, for a moment Thranduil thought Bard would do something foolish but the man stepped forward shooting Thorin a glare filled with resentment before he left. Thorin furrowed his brows he turned to the others but all of them were just equally silent if with guilty looks crossing their faces.

“Let’s go.” Thorin said breaking the tension in the room; he let his eyes fell upon Thranduil who was looking at the spot where moments ago had been Bard.

Something inside Thorin stirred something unpleasant and painful that made him felt as if he was jumping into a void. His limbs felt heavy while his chest shrank tingling unpleasantly; he wasn’t a fool and knew something else happened there. Thorin didn’t comment of this, instead he gave a shaky smile.

Dís hurried Glorfindel and Bilbo out leaving Thorin behind with Thranduil, the Elven-Prince still held guilt in his eyes, his mind was already going over different ways to ask for forgiveness to Bard. He had been selfish; he never thought Bard could possible fell in love with him. Thranduil lifted his face when Thorin stood beside him looking up to the sky where fireworks were already decorating the night.

“Today, I didn’t have a chance to tell you how _presentable_ you were.” Thorin shifted a little glancing back at Thranduil whose lips curled up.

“Presentable?” Thranduil sounded suddenly amused. “You can say it, I know you want to.”

“Say what, elf?” Thorin replied crossing his arms stubbornly, Thranduil lowered his shoulders placing a hand on top of Thorin’s shoulders.

“Come, I believe you promise me to teach me how to fly my lantern into the sky.”

Thorin gauged the elf’s face, he furrowed his brows nodding while following Thranduil. As he and the Elven-Prince left the balcony, Thorin saw Bard in the distance; the man shot Thranduil a longing stare before turning a way. Thorin might act like one but he wasn’t an idiot and soon he understood why King Bard was looking at him with so much anger and animosity.

*****

Thranduil watched as his son slid over the frozen river, Legolas laughed while making different figures on the ice. Dwarves around him were trying to imitate the elf without having the same graceful results, the fireworks continued in the sky taking different forms and colours.  Soon everyone was gathering around the valley in front of the gates, there wasn’t a single Dwarf or man presented that didn’t have a lantern in their hands. Legolas waved at his father approaching him with a huge grin adorning his features.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

“I am, you should try it.” Legolas said the young elf stared curiously at the lantern on his father’s hand.

It was a beautiful green and silver lantern with different patterns drawn in it, Legolas could see the figures representing him and his father, the forest and the sea.

“So, this is what you were working on with prince Thorin?”

“Yes, it was.” Thorin got closer to them bringing his own lantern decorated with blue and silver. “But, mine is better, right?”

Legolas tilted his head placing his hand on his chin while looking over the patterns on the Prince’s lantern. Thorin had drawn mountains and trees, there were some war-goats and the form of what appeared to be eagles.

“It looks nice, but…I don’t know, do I have to choose?” Legolas wondered looking at both Princes who answered with a single nod.  Legolas chuckled pointing at the one his father had done, “Sorry, Prince Thorin, but blood before anything else.”

“You have wounded me.” Thorin said playfully, the Dwarf then turned to Thranduil then lowered his eyes to the Elf’s lantern. “Mine is so much better.”

“Keep telling yourself that, you were just as impressed and ready to admit the beauty of mine back in the forge.”

“I was not!” Thorin looked offended glaring mockingly at Thranduil.

“Oh, yes, I do remember you mumble about my skilful hands.” Thranduil smirked enjoying the flustered expression from Thorin.

Thorin sputtered shaking his head, “Lies, all of them lies, _elf._ ”

“You may as well call me Thranduil.” Thranduil replied his voice low, inviting. Legolas stared at his father clearing his throat when his comment left Thorin dumbfounded.

“Please, _brother_.” Legolas said with a hint of warn in his voice. “Let’s set it free.”

Thranduil shook his head recovering his senses; he looked away wondering why he had spoken in such a voice already knowing the answer. Thorin then turned his attention to his lantern trying to control his own emotions.

“What are you doing?” Thorin sighed exasperate when Thranduil approached the lantern.

“I’m trying to light the flame.” Thranduil replied as if it was obvious.

“You are going to burn yourself and the lantern.” Thorin said rolling his eyes, “How old are you? Have you been so pampered you don’t really know how to work with the kindling?”

“Oh, now you are an expert! Then by all means…” Thranduil wasn’t even over when Thorin lighted up the lantern.

Thorin lifted his eyes to meet Thranduil’s blue ones, for a moment he was tempted to smirk to mock the elf and Thranduil was surely waiting for the jest.  But it never came, Thorin gave him a real smile shaking his head, the Dwarf then did something strange, something that made Thranduil’s heart missed a beat and confused the Elf greatly. Thorin grabbed Thranduil’s hand squeezing lightly, his calloused fingertips brushing the smooth skin of the elf while he pressed a soft kiss on the Elf’s forehead. Thorin didn’t know what came onto him, Thranduil was looking specially stunning that night, the light coming from the fireworks and the lanterns made him look like an ethereal apparition of beauty and danger. Thorin knew deep inside his heart he was starting a journey without return. He knew as he placed his lips on Thranduil’s forehead he was breaking more than a promise.

“Now you can wish upon a star and get your heart’s desire, Thranduil.”

Thorin stood up walking away without looking back. Thranduil kneeled in front of his lantern thinking about what just happened until Legolas called for his attention.

“Prince Thranduil?” Legolas approached his father glancing curiously at him, there was a soft tone of red on his cheeks and something strange gleaming in his eyes. “Are you well? Do you need my help?”

Thranduil stared at his son smiling at him, the sight of Thorin’s smile still fresh on his mind. Thranduil stood up with the lantern on his hands.

“I made this for you and me.” Thranduil whispered in his son’s ear.

“Thank you.” Legolas smiled at his father though he still held a hint of worry on his eyes.

“Thorin told me we can wish whatever we want.” Thranduil said placing a hand on his son shoulder while allowing Legolas to grab the other side of the lantern. “There is only one thing I wish for and that is for have the chance to call you my son without fear.

Legolas trembled smiling weakly at his father, he wanted to cry but stopped himself from doing so. He eyed the lantern, then lifted his eyes to the sky.

“I just wish for your happiness, Ada.” Legolas said for only his father to listen.

Thorin watched the scene from afar, he couldn’t help but see the softening of Thranduil’s features, the gleam of those blue eyes, how tender he was with his little brother, that smile…the sight of a real smile coming from the usually composed, sarcastic and rather annoying Elf was something Thorin had never thought possible to witness. Thorin glanced at his own lantern thinking what he could wish for…glancing back at Thranduil and without realizing, Thorin’s heart made the wish for him: to see Thranduil’s real smile once more. This time around direct to him.

The lanterns flew into the sky igniting the night with several forms and colours, everyone was pointing, chatting and smiling the hopes of a whole nation were burning in the sky begging to the gods to bring another year, to bring peace and happiness. Thorin could only wish for a single smile, a single real smile for Thranduil. Thranduil could only wish for happiness at his son’s side.

None of them suspect the gods had started working on their wishes but, perhaps, not in the way they thought or wanted it to; they do say the path to happiness could be a rocky one and Thorin and Thranduil were in for a great trial.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, thank you for reading this chapter and the story in general. You don't know how grateful I am for the comments, the kudos and the bookmarks. Thanks, really.
> 
> Now, for some explanations about the Alpha/Omega dynamics. Only Elves lived under this form of biology and rules, only them have this dynamics going on for the race. The other races can sense there is something different whenever alphas or omegas are in heat, but is not something that make them act as if they have to mate right away or something. For mortals is like seeing something beyond beautiful and ethereal, they see a part of what a real elf looks like, much like when Frodo o Bilbo put the ring around elves. 
> 
> Also, while being in heat is important and does bring some need for sexual release it doesn't make elves uncontrolled individuals. The heat is not something they can't control or something they need to placate sleeping around or anything, is just a sensation of need. I hope this cleared some things up, if you have more questions you can ask away.


	6. The Ambition of the King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A strange gem is found, Thorin is trying to reach out while Thranduil is trying to run away.

**Chapter 6**

**The ambition of the King**

 

**part 1**

The Winter Festival had been a success.

Everyone was partying with smiles of appreciation two days later bidding the mountain and Prince Thorin good-bye and wishing for the young Prince a great future. As the tradition dictates, Thorin woke at the break of dawn to bid farewell to some of the most important attendants to the Festival. The Dwarven-Prince was ready to go to his rooms and get ready for an early training session when King Bard and Prince Bain approached him. Thorin couldn’t help but tense when Bard approaching, there were no words between them, only glares and faces of anger and jealousy in their faces. Thorin was still crossed by the coldness and the silent anger coming from King Bard, the man had made it quite clear Thorin was his least favourite person and Thorin, now suspecting what was the cause, decided to make the man know the same. Bard left with a broken heart and thoughts regarding Thranduil and a way to win his affections, Thorin stayed with sorrowful thoughts of how perfect the King of Dale and the Prince of the Woodland Realm could have been for one another.

The City was waking up by the time Thorin lifted his sword and his axe, looking at the sharp edge of his favourite weapons while hearing Dwalin’s report regarding the Lord of Khand. The Dwarven-Prince was getting ready for his training session and activity he had missed greatly in the last couple of days. After having watched Bard, he knew this would be perfect to silence his stormy thoughts regarding the Elf and the man.

Dwalin passed his best friend the scabbard of his sword, “Orcs had been rather active in this part of the world. Not only orcs but wargs as well, winter has helped them cross the sea and threaten the people of Khand.”

“So, he is worried about a few orcs attacking the city?” Thorin questioned turning around, he and Dwalin exited the Prince’s room making their way to the training grounds.

“I believe is more complicated.” Dwalin replied. “They are outnumbered, Khand doesn’t possess many Dwarves to protect it and the Elves had been unable to help them.”

Thorin turned to Dwalin who was looking around, the Dwarven-Prince furrowed his brows leaning closer to his friend.

“What is it?” Thorin asked softly, Dwalin turned to Thorin sighing.

“Your father…he raised the taxes on Khand and sent a decree declaring whatever it is produced there should be offered to Erebor as a payment for our protection, if Khand wants to survive this year, the will need to pay.”

“I see, now I understand why Lord Orik wants to speak to me.” Thorin replied gravelly worry gripping his heart. “Tomorrow is the annual meeting with all the Lords serving to Erebor. I will need to speak to father before the meeting.”

“Yes, but you need to be careful.” Dwalin advised as the both of them approached the training grounds on the second level of the citadel. “I will also advise you to talk to Lord Orik today, if it is possible.”

“Yes, bring him to the goat’s training ground after lunch.” Thorin said. “Prince Legolas asked me to teach him how to mount a goat; I was thinking the snow covered ground would be perfect for him to learn without too much risk.”

Dwalin furrowed his brows glancing at Thorin strangely, ever since the spy was back to Erebor he had been busy attending to the Kingdoms and their King’s need he forgot to have a serious talk with Thorin. Dwalin knew everyone thought Legolas to be the brother of the Elven-Prince, but the spy knew of his real parentage; he glanced at Thorin noticing affection in his friend’s voice regarding the young Elf and Dwalin couldn’t help but feel uneasy. It wasn’t his place to reveal Prince Thranduil’s secrets, but he did need for Thorin to be prepared if the news were to, somehow, found imprudent mouths.

The training grounds of Erebor consisted in a group of six different grounds, all of them specialised in a specific art of fighting. The biggest one was made especially for sword fighting and hand to hand combat, Thorin eyed this particular training ground rather curiously as he saw several young apprentices and some veterans’ soldiers surrounding the fence. Thorin and Dwalin glanced at each other with puzzlement written in their faces, Dwalin nodded to a place where Bilbo, Ori, Balin and the others were watching with amazement to whoever was on the training grounds.

Just as they got closer Bilbo lifted his eyes to the Prince, he smiled nodding to the grounds, “Prince Thranduil and the other Elves are training. You should come and see this.”

Thorin was expecting to find anything interesting; if he were to be truthful he never cared for the Elves fighting style. However, seeing all his kin leaning against the fence cheering and mumbling with admiration and incredulity made him approach the fence with curiosity grasping at his heart; Thorin stopped right beside Bilbo his black eyes staring admiringly at the Elven-Prince, Thranduil, who was being circled by Glorfindel, Legolas and his personal guard.  Thranduil was standing in the middle of the grounds; his hand turning slightly to let the lights of the torches flickered in the silver blade.  Thorin watched closely waiting as much as everyone else for the attack to begin and soon he was enchanted by the way Prince Thranduil defeated his adversaries.

It started with Legolas moving in first, the young Elf moved left then right making a semi-circle in front of him only to have his sword stopped by the Prince’s own sword. Soon two of the guards came forward finding the Elven-prince was fast he parried every attack, his face showed a ferocious expression as he faced every single one of them with his feet moving elegantly giving direction to his body. One by one, the Elven guard fell under the methodical and cold defence of their Prince, Thranduil didn’t give them mercy as he took sword after sword until Legolas and Glorfindel stood surrounding him.

Thranduil curved his lips standing up with his sword to his right; he glanced around to his son then to his friend.  Legolas and Glorfindel started circling the Prince; Thranduil waited for he knew his son would be the first one to move. Legolas was not the patient type which usually was his main weakness.  As he thought, Legolas attacked first coming onto his father from the left, the young Elf slashed the air only to come into harsh contact with his father’s sword, Thranduil stared at his son counter-attacking with swiftly movements of his body and hand.  With determination but gentleness, Thranduil disarmed his son making him give up before the Elven-Prince turned to face the Captain of his guard.

Legolas stepped to the side breathing hard, admiring the way his father fought that morning. He knew this was only an effect of his father’s heat since the Elf couldn’t take away his frustrations in any other way.  Legolas shut his thoughts finding it unpleasant to think of other ways his father might use to calm down his frustrations. The young Elf turned his eyes to where Bilbo and the others were standing; he could see Thorin had his eyes glued to the form of his father and Legolas shifted tensely. He knew that stare; he had seen it countless times, the protective side inside of him stirred with violence. Legolas scowled wondering just how right was it for him to be upset at the way Thorin was glancing at his father if the both of them were to be married by the end of the year.

Thorin for his part could not take away his eyes from the Elf, he felt himself being charmed by the graceful movements of the Elven-Prince, the wildness and the freedom showed by Thranduil all of this accompanied by the way he had dressed himself. This was the first time Thorin got to see Thranduil wearing brown, leathery leggings with a white linen shirt held to his torso by different straps holding his quiver tight on his back. The Elven-Prince had chosen to put his hair in a ponytail leaving his neck and face uncovered. Thorin couldn’t help but admire how he didn’t even break a sweat when facing his guard and his younger brother. For a brief instant, Thorin wished he could order everyone around them away, he wished he could stop the stares some of the Dwarves were giving to the Elven-Prince; but doing so would be highly suspicious and raised questions Thorin himself didn’t know the answers to.

“Aren’t we glad they are our allies?” Gloin mumbled admiringly. “I never thought Prince Thranduil could fight in such a way.”

Everyone agreed with the red-head, all of them turning once more to the two Elves still standing. Glorfindel smirked at his friend the blade of his sword reaching lightly the blade of the Elven-Prince’s sword. Thranduil curved his lips in a half-smiled; he was engrossed with the exercise, trying to forget his pathetic state, trying to bury the images plaguing his dreams at night making he want to give in the very creature he swore to never desire.

The Elves surrounding the Captain and the Prince shot each other knowing glances, all of them took three steps back turning to the oncoming fight. Thranduil felt his blood boil in excitement as he started the fight. He fought with every pounce of frustration he had been feeling since the beginning of his heat. The Elven-Prince moved flexing his muscles, his feet turning and stepping forward with grace and ability. He didn’t give in when Glorfindel responded to his attacks, or when the Captain parried his advances swinging his sword to make Thranduil step back or changed his tactics. Thranduil was always ready, never once allowing his thoughts or his own need to distract him; he kept his attack and his technic perfect, always creating the right leverage to thrust his sword in defence or attack. Thranduil smirked back at Glorfindel thinking he would finally get the Captain this time around, his mind was already being freed of thoughts of the Dwarven-Prince when, suddenly after having turned to his right, Thranduil found himself looking directly into Thorin’s dark eyes.

Glorfindel furrowed his brows when he saw Thranduil faltering in his footsteps, his sword lowered slightly and the grip he had on the hilt softened. The Captain of the guard thrust forward almost making Thranduil lose his footing, Thranduil shook his head and his eyes darkened with anger and confusion. Glorfindel soon found himself the victim of his friend’s anger and frustration, and a part of the Captain knew this has something to do with Thorin and his friend’s heat. Glorfindel had felt the discomfort coming from Thranduil; he could tell something had been bothering him ever since the Winter Festival. He knew Thranduil used the training to burn up the energy build from his cycle, but this time around there was something else there. Something, Glorfindel knew he would need to ask him later; just as the Captain was ready to counter-attack he noticed the Dwarven-Prince and he realized why Thranduil had faltered in his movements minutes ago.

“I yield!” Glorfindel said suddenly startling Thranduil who stopped mid-way into another attack.

“What? Why?” Thranduil replied breathing hard, his sword falling to his side.

Glorfindel smiled rolling his shoulders while sheathing his own sword, “My Prince, if I continue I’m afraid you will end up breaking my dear sword.”

Thranduil narrowed his eyes at Glorfindel before turning to the other Elves, after having watched their Prince all of them were suddenly looking reluctant to join their prince in another training session.

“Really? No one wants to continue?” Thranduil asked aware of the unwanted stares of his audience, he knew some of them were looking at him with desire and admiration. But the Elven-Prince refused to turn completely dreading to find Thorin’s eyes on him again. Thranduil had enough of the damn dwarf invading his nights; he would not allow the damn creature to invade his time to burn his frustrations away.

Thorin didn’t know what got into him; he looked around and saw more than one Dwarf ready to take the Elven-Prince invitation. Thorin clenched his jaw feeling a wave of protectiveness towards Thranduil, he moved above the fence and decided no one but him should be taking the Elf’s invitation.

“I will fight you. If you think you can keep up with me.”

Everyone froze, many of the Dwarves around the fence mumbled while staring at their Prince who jumped above the fence and made his way towards the Elven-Prince. Thranduil locked his eyes with Glorfindel’s ones realizing the Captain was smiling at him. Thranduil turned slowly hating the burning desire in his loins, or the want he felt in his heart. Thorin tilted his head raising his left eyebrow while putting his long, wide sword from the sheath.

“What do you say, Prince Thranduil?”

“I say you will regret this.” Thranduil replied bowing his head to the Dwarven-prince.

“Oh, we shall see.” Thorin replied with his lips forming the perfect, arrogant smirk.

Everyone held their breaths when both Princes started their fight.

Thorin soon realized Thranduil was a force to be reckoned with, the Elf for all his soft and regal appearance held strength and speed behind his every move and every attack. He didn’t hesitated while slashing and thrusting his sword until Thorin realized he better took the fight seriously. Thorin lifted his eyes and soon he found himself lost into those blue, gleaming spheres that were holding a strange fire inside them. Thorin faltered on his foot work when he realized the intensity behind Thranduil’s stare held something akin to arousal.

“Oh, easily distracted, Prince Thorin?” Thranduil smirked amusedly; Thorin shook his head furrowing his brows while parrying another attack from the elf.

“I do not know what you are talking about.” The Dwarf gasped out trying to keep up with the sword fight.

Thranduil stepped forward with his right leg, leaning closer to the Dwarf while their swords sparked at the contact. Thranduil tilted his head making sure his hot breath would caress the heated skin of the Prince.

“You look highly distracted for a moment.”

Thranduil chuckled when his actions made Thorin faltered and fall on his ass. Everyone gasped, Legolas was grinning while Glorfindel shot a reproachful stare to his friend, Thranduil was using his own state to destabilize Thorin and he had done it making the Dwarf flustered and confused. Thranduil for his part tilted his head quirking his brow, he counted to ten inside his mind, his body having taken over whatever rational thought regarding the Dwarf in front of him. Thranduil felt displeased by Thorin and the blasted Dwarf was presenting him with the perfect excused to take away Thranduil’s frustrations. The Elven-Prince was ready to show Thorin just how frustrate how enrage he was with Thorin for daring invaded his dreams the past two nights.

Thorin stood up shaking his head; his black eyes glancing at Thranduil briefly before he gave a half-smirk, the Dwarven-Prince took his stance and launched another attack. This time around he made sure to make Thranduil struggled more.

“Let’s make this more interesting.” Thorin finally said stopping while sheathing his sword.

Thranduil opened his eyes briefly begging the gods Thorin wasn’t about to propose hand-to-hand combat because he didn’t think he would be capable of resist his own needs. The Dwarf made a hand sign to one of his friends and soon Dwalin arrived with a double axe in hand, he handled it to Thorin giving his friend a warning glance. Thorin smirked quirking his brows at Thranduil while showing off his axe.

“This is my weapon of choice, a gift from my mother.” Thorin said fondly. “I fight better with this.”

“Hn, that remains to be seen, but I have to wonder how is this going to make our training session more interesting.” Thranduil drawled tilting his head while his eyes took in the strong figure in front of him. “The result is going to be the same, you on your knees in front of me.”

“First, I wasn’t on my knees, I was on my ass.” Thorin replied rolling his eyes shrugging while making sure only Thranduil could hear him. “Second, we can make a little bet.”

“Bet?” Now Thranduil looked interested, the Elven-Prince lifted his chin contemplating Thorin for a moment before asking, “What kind of bet?”

Thorin shrugged feeling suddenly self-aware of the stares they were receiving, how everyone seemed to want to know what they were talking about. The Dwarven-Prince was even aware of the intense stare he had been receiving from Thranduil the moment he decided to join the training session.

“If you win, I will give you or do whatever you want.” Even as he said this Thorin felt foolish, what did he possess that the Elven-Prince might want?

Thranduil seemed to think the same for he made a face, his eyes gleaming strangely, “There is nothing you have that I may need or want.”

For some reason, Thorin felt a sharp pain in his chest. The Dwarven-Prince furrowed his brows trying to shake the feeling away while facing Thranduil.

“Perhaps, but you can chose whatever you want me to do or if there is a place you would like to go, I can take you there.” Thorin shrugged. “You can choose whatever price you want, if you win, of course.”

Thranduil shifted appreciatively, his mind was suddenly interested in what he could obtain from this foolish game. Thranduil nodded briefly his eyes narrowing as he stretched out the hand holding his sword, his clear, blue eyes never once leaving Thorin.

“And, if by the grace of the gods or some strange miracle you win?” Thranduil felt something pleasant stirred inside his stomach, like hoard of butterflies when Thorin chuckled shrugging.

“The same, whatever I want.”

Thranduil arched his brow trying to look unimpressed but failing, “Oh, are you finally going to give in your desires?”

Thorin snorted looking away to try and hide away the burn on his cheeks, “As if, don’t flatter yourself, _elf._ Not even in my worst nightmares would I dare to touch you, you’re not even that alluring.”

Thranduil opened his mouth to tell Thorin he pretty much touched the elf in his dreams, but he decided it wouldn’t be wise to share this piece of information with the Thorin. The Elf also decided he wasn’t hurt in the slightest by the reply coming from Thorin; Thorin from his part made sure his voice was harsh and cold; he didn’t want Thranduil to even think the idea of giving in his desires was entrancing. Although, Thorin suspected Thranduil was way too focused in more _carnal_ desires whereas Thorin found himself entertaining more courtly ones. Which was stupid, Thorin didn’t court and he certainly didn’t court an ugly elf like the one in front of him.

_Lies…_

“As if I were to let you touch me even with this foolish game.” Thranduil finally replied icily, he presented the sword to Thorin arching his brows. “Are you ready to lose, then?”

Thorin snorted again twirling his axe with ease, smirking when he saw the glint of surprise and amazement flickering in Thranduil’s eyes. If Thranduil thought his fight with Thorin would be easy, he was sorely mistaken. Thorin didn’t wield the axe like any other Dwarf or orc Thranduil had seen before. The Dwarven-Prince was actually using the weapon as an extension of his arm, his feet moved in synch with the wide movements of his arms and soon Thranduil found himself in deep trouble as the speed and force behind the slashes grew.

Nothing else existed beyond them.

Thranduil soon found himself feeling at ease with Thorin, he even smiled showing his enjoyment. Whatever frustration or anger the Elven-Prince had felt moments ago was forgotten under the heat of combat, under the relief he suddenly found behind those dark eyes and cocky smirk. Soon, the ache in Thranduil left and the Elven-Prince was left wondering why the discomfort of his nature subdued giving in a blissful blackness while facing Thorin.

It was then when Thranduil realized something had changed. The realization of this sudden changed between them caught Thranduil by surprised and it was all Thorin needed to disarmed the Elf with a half-turn of his body, his axe firmly grasped on his left hand giving him the chance to grab Thranduil with his right hand while his double axe pushed the blade of the Elf’s sword down. Suddenly, Thranduil found himself on his knee breathing hard with a bewildered Thorin looking down on him.

No one said a word, no one even move. The Elves were just as startled as the Dwarves and both Princes could do nothing but stare into each other’s eyes discovering a different glint there. Thranduil soon understood whatever had happened it changed them and _something_ was stirring deep inside his heart, was trying to command him to lean in and…Thranduil shook his head closing his eyes. Thorin could not take his eyes away with his heart beating fast, his hand loosening a little while he took a step back. Thranduil lowered his face furrowing his brows before standing up; silence fell between them heavy and filled with unspoken words.

“I won.” Thorin finally said smiling a little.

Thranduil shifted, tensing but without looking at Thorin he stepped forward. The elf stopped right beside Thorin speaking softly.

“That you did, congratulations, Prince Thorin, now I am at your whims mercy.” And with this Thranduil left.

Thorin turned to watch how Thranduil walked away with Legolas following him close behind, Glorfindel stared at Thorin for a long time with big, calculating eyes before the Captain bowed his head offering an apologetic smile. Everyone left soon afterwards realizing there won’t be any other spectacle to witness, Thorin’s friends however approached the Dwarven-Prince all of them wondering the same: just what the hell happened?

Sadly, no one could answer that question and Thorin would have to wait to find a satisfactory answer.

*****

For some reason, and even after what happened that morning, Thorin was expecting Thranduil that afternoon. However, when he saw Prince Legolas approaching all on his own, the Dwarven-Prince cursed his hopeful side. Of course Thranduil wouldn’t show after the strange events early that day; if Thorin were to be honest, he felt as if _something_ happened, _something_ he should know about but couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Legolas grinned at the Prince glancing around before placing his eyes on Thorin.

“Did he let you come all on your own?” Thorin asked the young Prince returning the smile with ease, for some reason he quite liked Legolas.

Legolas tensed faltering on his footsteps before composing himself, “My Brother was invited to tea by King Thráin and Captain Glorfindel stayed behind to read. I hope you don’t mind…”

Thorin furrowed his brows; he felt his insides stirred unpleasantly at what the young Elf had said. Why did his father invite Thranduil to an afternoon tea without him? The Dwarven-Prince soon shook his expression to try and smile easily at the Prince who was now looking concerned.

“Is there something the matter?” Legolas questioned, Thorin shook his head motioning Legolas to approach him.

“No, not at all. Come, I think we should start your lessons with Cotton.”

Legolas chuckled at the name, he followed the Dwarven-Prince to a middle size war-goat. The animal was chewing on some frozen grass looking at the Princes without any interest. Thorin placed his hand under the goat’s chin caressing the animal until Cotton closed his eyes leaning against the Dwarf’s hand.

“He is quite old, thus should work for you.” Thorin lifted his head nodding to the closest trainer. “Help Prince Legolas on Cotton.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Soon Legolas found himself being on top of the war-goat, the young Elf was excited looking around him, he was feeling dumb for he was still taller than the animal and had to fix his legs in such a way they didn’t come uncomfortably to his chest. Orí, Fíli and Bilbo were all cheering to Legolas, laughing and giving the Elf some instructions while Legolas tried to follow them without falling off of his mount. Thorin observed from a distance laughing softly but enjoying the sight of Legolas trying on the war-goat; after more than thirty minutes Thorin saw Dwalin and Lord Orik approaching them, the Dwarven-Prince fixed his jacket indicating the rest of the trainers they could go and take a rest while he watched over Legolas.

“Lord Orik, thank you for joining me.” Thorin smiled at the old Dwarf placing his hand on Lord Orik’s shoulder. “I hope everything is of your liking.”

“My Prince, everything is just perfect, you are a great host.” Lord Orik turned to see Legolas and the others riding on the war-goat, the old Dwarf furrowed his brows shaking his head. “Now, I have seen it everything. An Elf riding a noble goat from the Line of Durin.”

Thorin tensed furrowing his brows slightly annoyed by the comment, he was ready to protest and defend Legolas and the right of anyone who was interested in the goats to ride them, when Lord Orik laughed.

“This is really a story for the oncoming generations.” The old Dwarf then turned to Thorin with intelligence gleaming in his eyes. “As it is your engagement to Prince Thranduil of the Woodland Realm.”

Thorin quirked his brow nodding slowly, “Yes, it certainly was a surprise, but a pleasant one. I am lucky to be promised to Prince Thranduil, just as he is lucky to have me as a husband-to-be.”

“Oh, it is certainly more than luck, my Prince.” Orik shoot Thorin a knowing stare and the Prince sensed the old Dwarf knew all about the Elves, or at least the details as to why engage the Crowned Prince of Erebor to a male that, in other circumstances, wouldn’t give Erebor an heir.

“I think congratulations are in order, my Prince. May the might of the Line of Durin bless you with a strong progeny and a bright future.” Lord Orik bowed soon he straightened up glancing at the youngsters playing around with the war-goat before speaking again. “I am worried, my Prince.”

“I thought as much, when I welcomed you to Erebor you shared with me a request.” Thorin glanced around then back at Orik. “This is the most secluded and private place to talk. Lord Orik, I am listening.”

Orik shifted uncomfortably, the old Dwarf knew he was going against all protocol but after having spoken with the King and seeing the state his monarch was in Orik decided his approaching of Prince Thorin had been right. Thorin waited patiently indicating with a gesture of his head for Dwalin to walk away for a little while, Orik and Thorin were left alone with only the wind and the cold as their companions.

“Two months ago a cargo of goods and some minerals was ambushed by a pack of wargs.” Orik’s voice was filled with concern, his eyes gleaming with worry and anger. “We lost several fathers, sons and friends in the ambush but we thought it was something to do with the approaching winter.”

Thorin furrowed his brows trying to collect any information about this, he had been in several meetings two months ago but none of them mentioned a caravan ambushed by wargs.

“We were mistaken, of course. This was the first of series of attacks that were getting closer and closer to the main working camps.” Orik shook his head. “Orcs and wargs attacked the farthest one, there were no survivors.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Thorin replied suddenly feeling the same rage the Lord of Khand felt. “We could have send help, we…”

Thorin trailed off when Orik turned to him enraged and perplexed, “My Prince, we asked for help! We begged King Thráin, may his beard grow even longer, to help us, to send more guards for the caravans and to protect Khand so we could keep sending our production to Erebor.”

Orik shrugged lowering his gaze, “The help never came but what did was a direct order and edict from your father.”

Thorin was dizzy at all this new information, he sighed crossing his arms while filing away the information he was being given.

“What kind of edict?”

“Khand must pay double of the original price set for the taxes, along with this we should offer a male Dwarf from every family to come to Erebor and be trained in the King’s personal army.” Orik turned to Thorin making sure the Prince understood his desperation. “He wants not only this but pretends for us to double the production to be sent to Erebor. This must be done before he can provide us with protection.”

Thorin remained silent for a long time, he thought over what he had been told and compared it with the information Dwalin had provided. Everything seemed to match, but there was an uneasy feeling regarding his father’s recent behaviour and the things he had been doing lately.  The news Lord Orik brought with him were worrisome over all if Thorin were to compare it with the news Dáin had brought a month ago. It seemed as if the orcs and the wargs were working together once more, they were getting organized waiting for something, but what could they be waiting for?

“My Prince, I respect your father a great deal, he is a great Dwarf and a great King.” Orik trailed off glancing around before continuing. “However, lately the King has been more worried about the gold inside his vaults that his own people.”

“Careful, Lord Orik, your situation may be worrisome but he is still King.” Thorin chided the old Lord who bowed his head.

“I apologize, my Prince. I mean not disrespect, but…” Lord Orik trailed off placing his hands on the silver belt adorning his waist. “We really need the help, my Prince, the Dwarrows of Khand and the few men living amongst us won’t take this rise in taxes and the lack of protection lightly.”

“I understand this, though, I can’t help but wonder what would you want me to do?” Thorin tilted his head examining the old Dwarf in front of him. “Why have you come to me?”

“Prince Thorin, if your father won’t listen to my claims perhaps he would listen to you.” Orik said with a hint of hope in his voice. “I’ve been told, and I have to agree, you are more like your mother and your grandfather, the wisdom of Durin the Deathless is with you, my Prince.”

Thorin wanted to believe the words this old Dwarf uttered with conviction, he wanted to believe everything he was being told was the truth. However, Thorin knew Lord Orik was trying to reach out to him to obtain what he was asking for. The young Dwarven-Prince couldn’t blame him, his demands were just and fair, they made sense as much as his father’s behavior didn’t.

“I will look into your case, Lord Orik.” Thorin finally said his voice deep, firm and clear. “I cannot promise you a promptly answer, but I can promise you I will make sure the Land of Khand is treated fairly.”

Lord Orik bowed deeply to his Prince taking Thorin’s right hand and kissing his ring, “I thank you from deep inside my heart, Prince Thorin. May the fates be kind with you.”

Thorin watched as Lord Orik walked away from him; the old Dwarf seemed lighter as if a heavy burden was taken away from him. Thorin felt apprehension, the news Lord Orik brought left him thoughtful, the young Prince dread the oncoming meeting with his father for he really didn’t expect much change in the King’s way of seeing things. Nevertheless, Thorin would try and investigate this matter even more, two protectorates had already shared their worry regarding the orcs and wargs attacks, this wasn’t normal.

“Prince Thorin.” Thorin turned to see Legolas riding the war-goat grinning happily. “I think I got the handle of this, what else can I learn when mounting this magnificent animal?”

Thorin laughed shaking his head while caressing the goat’s muzzle, “Well, first you will have to learn more about control before I teach you how to fight.”

“Very well, then, let’s do it!”

*****

King Thráin sat on his chair in his private study glancing at his goblet decorated with silver and gold with diamonds and sapphires around the edges. His eyes held no light other than that of greed as he realized the blue in the sapphires were like the blue in Prince Thranduil’s eyes. He had the Elven-Prince closed he could almost touch him, he would have done something if it hadn’t been for his sweet daughter. Dís seemed rather taken by Thranduil and, as per usual, Thráin could not deny her anything, she had taken with her the sight of virgin light coming from Thranduil leaving King Thráin alone in his study.

Thráin hated Elves; they were a lesser race with no beard and not honour.  He hadn’t forgotten the Doriath incident not had he forgotten how traitorous they were. His master move in the political arena to marry his son with the lowly Prince Thranduil was nothing else that Thráin getting his hands on the Woodland Realm without having to raise his army. But the Dwarven-King never thought he would set his eyes on such an exquisite gem as Prince Thranduil. There was strange light as of late in the damn Elf that got Thráin needing and desperate to possess.

The male Elf had skin like marble easy to work with, easy to mark as property. His hair was the colour of gold and Thráin could imagine grabbing those silky locks pulling at them to see into those sapphire eyes.

When had his thoughts about the Elven-Prince changed? Could it be a spell of the accursed race?

Thráin snorted he wouldn’t put it pass those pointy ears to do something so lowly. But he was King Under the Mountain for a reason, he would not fall easily in the charms of the Elven-Prince unless…

Thráin chuckled darkly drinking some of the wine in his cup, unless it was to deflower the Prince before his incompetent son got his hands on him. Yes, he could teach the Elf who was King and who was his real owner before leaving leftovers to Thorin; perhaps, if the gods were amiable with him the child the blast elf would carry would be his…Not for the first time, Thráin cursed tradition and the death of his wife. If it hadn’t been for his status as widower he would have claimed the Elf for himself to not let his son near this well-elaborated plan. But, there were some things even King Thráin could not do, at least, for now.

A knock on the door interrupted King Thráin’s dark thoughts.

The monarch furrowed his brows rather annoyed by the interruption; he turned to the door growling lowly.

“Who is it? Who dares to bother the King?” His voice resounded in the study; the King lifted his eyes when a lowly miner entered his office with his head lowered and his hands wriggling nervously in front of him.

The Royal guard grabbed the miner who lifted his face to look over at his King; he spoke fast and resolutely to the King grabbing Thráin attention.

“My King, please this is of utmost importance regarding the heart of the mountain.” The miner begged trying to get free of the hold of the guards. “It is a sign of the gods for you, my King.”

King Thráin lifted his eyebrows stopping his guards with a gesture of his hand, the guards let go of the miner and soon exited the office closing the door behind them. Thráin stood up walking towards the miner who was soon kneeling in front of the King with his forehead to the ground. The King tilted his head signalling for the Dwarf to stand up.

“Talk then, before I regret my decision.”

The miner nodded looking around then at his King, “My Lord, I was one of the few miners working deep inside the heart of the mountain, we have been working day and night to keep the grandeur of your Majesty and Erebor by extracting gold, mithril and other gems and minerals.”

“Yes, I know of this, what is it you want?” Thráin’s tone was harsh, the mere thought of having to give something to this low lives was unbearable. “Or, perhaps, is it something you found?”

Thráin suddenly grew intrigued when the attitude from the miner change, the miner nodded leaning closer to the King.

“My lord, I found something…something only you should come and see.” The miner said in a low tone. “I believe, my Lord, this to be a gift from the gods.”

This caught Thráin’s attention.

The Dwarven-King regarded the miner for a long time to the point the miner was getting nervous, finally after his staring Thráin smiled but something inside the miner stirred in fear.

“You have done well in coming to me first, then. Come, show me what have you found and if your words are truthful I will see that you are rewarded greatly.”

The miner’s eyes glowed with rapacity, he nodded and soon King and miner left the Royal palace to make their way to the mines. It had been a long time since Thráin had last been there, he kept going down for the different solitary passages the miner took him and, as they walked into the mountain, deeper, lower, Thráin started feeling excitement. The walls were decorated with gold, silver, mithril and all the other metals that hadn’t been mined yet; the King thought of all the riches he already have and those who were to come. The Mountain was his and his only wish was to last a thousand lives to enjoy it all.

Soon the stairs went in a spiral moving lower and lower, the heat was getting to the King who followed the miner through a small passage only lit but the special torches hanging from the walls. They arrived to a wooden balcony; there was no sound in the big cavern. Thráin leaned against the rail looking into a bottomless pit.

“Careful my King, we haven’t dare to go further down, this is the deepest part of the Mountain.” The miner explained. “Here, down this corridor is my work place.”

The King shifted still looking into the bottomless pit, he then glanced to his right were the rock was smooth without a single insinuation of gold, silver or anything else. The King scowled but said nothing wondering just what they had found in this place. Finally, the miner stopped in front of something covered by a black sheet, there were no rails in this place and the miner suddenly seemed nervous but excited.

“My lord, have a look at the treasure of treasures, the heart of the mountain.”

The miner took the black sheet off and soon Thráin was blinded by a light like no other light. The eyes of the King opened wide when he saw the silver light of the moon and the golden light of the sun in the gem. His heart grew greedy when the stone twinkled at him with beauty, lighting up his face with the colours of his desire. Rubies, sapphires, emeralds and all the gemstones in the mountain and outside of Erebor were kept in this small wonder. The stone had a light of its own, pallid and entrancing it teased Thráin with want and need. Thráin’s eyes saw nothing else but the flames of the stone in front of him; the Dwarven-king stretched out his hand his fingertips caressing the soft surface shocked at how warm the gemstone felt.

“My Liege?” The charm was broken when the miner spoke, Thráin’s face darkened as he turned around glancing once more at the stone then at the miner.

“Who else knows about this?” Thráin asked firmly.

The miner shook his head, his eyes were gleaming with ambition as he answered, “None, My Liege, I thought you should be the first one to be informed.”

Thráin smirked tilting his head at the miner who glanced past the King to set his eyes upon the gem, something inside Thráin agitated with possessiveness and anger. How dare a lowly miner to look upon the gift of the gods? It was obvious this gem was put upon the mountain for Thráin to find it, it was a reassurance his Kingdom was the greatest there was.

“Very well, miner, you have served your King well and now you shall be rewarded.”

The miner had but a second to realize what his King meant by this, Thráin pushed the Dwarf hard hitting him straight on the chest. The King watched as those eyes opened in surprised, the mouth hanging open and the scream fade into the darkness of the abysm.

King Thráin watched as the Dwarf disappeared and he was left alone with the heart of the mountain, the King turned and his hands worked hard on the stone surrounding the gem. Soon the warm gem was on his hand, looking like an orb it was big enough to grab with both hands but small enough to keep it under his clothes until he was back to his room. Thráin smirked with his eyes gleaming with madness, his heart already hardened with schemes to present this gem as a reaffirmation to his Kingdom.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Almost a week had passed since the Winter Festival and the beginning of a new year.

In all this time Thorin had seen the drastic changes on his father, the King had been working without a rest on having his Throne re-done while occupying himself with some secret task in his office. Thorin had tried to speak with his father regarding the situation in Khand but the King had been inflexible when giving his answer, accusing Lord Orik of being greedy and a liar. There was nothing Thorin could do but urge some of the council members to still consider the situation in Khand and the Iron Hills as something worth looking at.

In the meantime, Thorin took his duties as a Prince and a future heir quite seriously while his mind tried to go over all of his worries. The one worry that would come at him and hunt his nights away was Prince Thranduil. Ever since their training session Thranduil had been acting strangely around him, more strangely than usual. Thorin couldn’t shake the feeling _something_ was going on, the Dwarven-Prince always felt a nagging push beginning in his abdomen and going through his heart and mind whenever he got closer to the Elf but, as soon as he tried to do or say something Prince Thranduil would just react as violently as when their first met or ran from Thorin.

Thorin was getting slightly restless at the change of attitude, but he wasn’t about to let this tamper on his mood. Instead he designed a way for Prince Thranduil to pay his debt from the week before and, at the same time, trying to go back to the easy relationship they were building.

The Dwarven-Prince would ask himself why he took so many preparations and so much care when preparing anything that involved Prince Thranduil.  He would usually do so when the blast elf infuriate and frustrate him, or when it was late at night and dreams of the elf filled his nights; but the answer as to why he was trying to much to get closer to Thranduil eluded him. For now, and with his goals set in mind, the only thing that worried Thorin was if Thranduil would like what he had planned and how bad the elf would take it when Thorin used the bet as an excuse.

“Thorin!” Legolas grinned at the Dwarf glancing back at his father who tensed when hearing the name, the young Elf wished he knew why his father seemed so wary of the Dwarf all of a sudden. “What are you doing here so early?”

“I could ask you the same.” Thorin replied furrowing his brows while crossing his arms. “The only excuse I take from you is if you tell me you have been bothering Prince Thranduil.”

Legolas chuckled shaking his head; Thranduil approached his son placing a hand on his shoulder. The Elven-Prince glared at Thorin tilting his head before answering.

“Unlike you, Prince Thorin, Legolas is not a bother to me.” Thranduil softened his tone while shooting a quick glance at Legolas, “He would never be. Now, why are you here?”

Thorin straightened up, he wished his interaction with Thranduil to be different but, apparently, they could only relate while bickering back and forth. A part of Thorin liked it, another part thought while he enjoyed it; Thranduil might mean every single word.

“I’ve come here to collect a debt, Prince Thranduil.” Thorin lifted his chin shooting a serious stare at the Elf who was looking dumbfounded, a hint of worry and fear crossing his clear blue eyes.

“A debt?” Thranduil sounded cold, his eyes burning with warning. “What do you mean, Thorin?”

“I mean the bet we made a week ago, Prince Thranduil.” Thorin replied in all seriousness. “There is something I need to do and I thought I could collect the debt as I do so.”

Legolas decided to step back, he knew all about the bet and he also knew Glorfindel and Thranduil had spoken in hush whispers one night when they thought Legolas was asleep. He knew something happened, but the young Elf was still in the dark as to what it was. What kind of prince Thorin would claim? Legolas regarded Thorin for a long time before deciding whatever the Dwarf was planning it couldn’t be so bad, Prince Thorin had been nothing but generous and kind with them.

Thranduil was left speechless; he glanced at Thorin with suspicion before speaking again.

“Very well, how should I pay my debt, then?”

“You don’t have to sound so enthusiastic.”

“I am not, why pretend otherwise?” Thranduil said coldly, the Elf however soon regretted it when he saw hurt behind Thorin’s black eyes.

The Dwarf soon straightened up hardening his stare, “Look, if you are as honourable as you said you are come and pay your debt. Captain Glorfindel and Prince Legolas are invited as well. We will be waiting at the gates of Erebor.”

Thorin left without waiting for an answer from Thranduil, he could feel the Elf’s stare on him before he disappeared around the corner. Thranduil sighed heavily feeling guilty for having been so cold with Thorin when it was obvious he had prepared something. Turning back to his room he saw Legolas glaring at him with his arms crossed.

“What is wrong with you, Ada?” Legolas shook his head. “I don’t understand you; first you like Thorin, or at least tolerate him then…what is going on? He was trying to be nice.”

“I know.” Thranduil replied giving his son an apologetic smile. “Shall we catch up to him before this turns into a bigger drama?”

Legolas glanced at his father with just a hint of doubt and curiosity, but he soon nodded going over to wrap his quiver around his back and then his dagger on his hips. Thranduil rubbed his temples repeating himself the same thing he had been repeating ever since the Winter Festival.

_It is just sympathy and admiration, even the hint of a shaky friendship…Thorin, Prince of Erebor, means nothing else and nothing more._

By the time Thranduil and Legolas reached the gates of Erebor everything was ready. Thranduil was surprised to see Balin, Dwalin, Bilbo and little Fíli who was riding along with Bilbo, all set up on  top of their ponies waiting beside three white horses. In one of them Glorfindel sat comfortably, the Captain of the guard glanced back at his Prince before turning to Legolas and winking at the young Elf.

Legolas got on top of his horse caressing the animal while speaking softly in Elvish, Thranduil tried to catch Thorin’s eyes but the Dwarf was either ignoring him or his conversation with the council Dwarf standing beside him was way too interesting. Thranduil silenced the hurt in his heart while he too got on top of his horse, caressing the mane of the animal he realized the horses didn’t have any reins like it was common amongst Elves. With a single touch of his hand the horse moved to his master’s will, soon without even thinking about it, Thranduil was just standing beside Thorin.

The council Dwarf eyed Thranduil with mistrust, his own mannerism changed as soon as the Elven-Prince approached Thorin. The Dwarf bowed to his Prince trying to ignore the Elf.

“I believe, my Prince that would be all.”

“Very well, we will be back late, though perhaps we will stay at my cottage on the grazing lands.” Thorin said seriously. “I do not want to bother the gate keepers so maybe you could make sure the cottage is ready for our arrival.”

“It would be done, my Prince.”

Thorin nodded his eyes turning for a brief moment to Thranduil before he hurried his pony down the road.  Thranduil narrowed his eyes at Thorin while he too hurried his horse down the road following Thorin close behind. The company rode for more than two hours taking the path of the river to the shores of the Great Lake. They didn’t spoke, but Thorin and Thranduil never rode too far from each other, by the time they arrived to the small village Thranduil was admiring the construction and the Dwarven Town.

“Where are we?” Thranduil asked looking around with admiration.  Thorin smiled dismounting his pony while grabbing the reins.

“This is the small town of Auraglor.” Thorin explained quite pleased when Thranduil also dismounted standing beside him.

“After establishing the Kingdom of Erebor, some Dwarves decided they didn’t want to live under the mountain.” Thorin explained making his way the Great House in the middle of the village. A group of Dwarves approached the company taking the ponies and the horses away. “My ancestors made this city for these Dwarves.”

“It is a beautiful village.” There was honesty behind Thranduil’s words; the Elven-prince was looking around admiringly before setting his stare on Thorin. “Why have you brought me here?”

“We have come here, Prince Thranduil, to fix a minor problem and to show you those who are part of the Heart of the Mountain.” Thorin explained giving Thranduil a gentle smile. “We have come to see what my people needs.”

Thranduil had getting to know Thorin little by little but, if there was one thing for certain he knew about him was Thorin loved his people. It was curious watching him speaking with normal folk with real interested behind his actions and words; the Dwarven-Prince was in his element attending to the needs of everyone who approached him. Thranduil observed as Thorin dealt with the merchants who were angry at the raised of the taxes or the fisher-dwarves who were asking for better founds for their boats. Thorin was reading reports while listening to the Mayor of the city, he checked and double checked the goods that were sold and those that were bought. Thranduil couldn’t help but admire Thorin while he worked on his duties; but what really shocked him thought was the fact Thorin sometimes would ask for his opinion.

At first, Thranduil thought it was a way to mock him, to perhaps take revenge for his early comment and his behaviour lately. Soon, Thranduil realized Thorin was being honest in his request therefore Thranduil answered with honesty and effectiveness.

“I believe the fish will be welcome in the King’s halls.” Thranduil said watching the excess of fish the Dwarves of the city could not sell to the Mountain itself or to the city of Dale. “And, I believe, this could also be shared with the city of Auraglor, a feast for the great work you have done.”

The Dwarven-Mayor opened his eyes nervously glancing at Prince Thranduil then at Prince Thorin, “But, my Lords, the King sent this edict…”

Thorin and Thranduil tensed, but it was Thorin who shook his head furrowing his words.

“I will deal with my father, Mayor. You do as Prince Thranduil said; I believe this is a great idea.”

Thorin smiled then at the Dwarf who sighed in relief. While it was true Erebor protected them they still need to work and produce something as to not be taken for lazy Dwarves. It had been this way since the very beginning and Erebor had always been their number one costumer, thus whenever Erebor refused to buy some of the production or the fishing they sought out the City of Dale or the production was lost since the last edict of the King told them they were forbidden to keep any of these goods.

Fíli rubbed his eyes approaching Thranduil; he pulled on the elf’s robes yawning while lifting his arms. Thorin found this amusing due to the look of sheer panic crossing Thranduil’s face. Dwalin and Bilbo snickered while Legolas pursed his lips narrowing his eyes to the child.

“I don’t think…” Thranduil started but Thorin lifted Fíli so Thranduil could hold him.

Thranduil didn’t say no and soon he had Fíli snuggled on his left side sleeping. The Elven-Prince contemplated the blond child remembering those strange moments in which he would pick his son up and rock him to sleep. For a brief moment Thranduil turned to catch Legolas glancing wishfully at them. It broke Thranduil’s heart, but his son approached him squeezing his arm lightly.

“I remember.” Legolas mumbled gifting his father with an honest smile before approaching Thorin asking something about the city. Thranduil swallowed his tears while moving away a lock of blond hair from Fíli’s face.

The sun was about to set when they reached the mountain again.

Thorin directed them towards the grazing lands where the last of the war-goats were being taken away. Legolas placed Fíli on his shoulders running fast towards Cotton while Fíli laughed in delight, Bilbo was trying to catch up with them to make sure Fíli wouldn’t suffer any kind of accident.

Thranduil placed a hand on top of Thorin’s shoulder stopping the Dwarf before he went to join the others. Thorin stopped turning to Thranduil with curiosity, Thranduil sighed smiling softly at Thorin.

“Thank you, today was different.”

“Was it pleasant?” Thorin asked Thranduil chuckled.

“Yes, I particularly enjoy when you and Bilbo decided to see who could take the spicy potato.” Thranduil smirked when Thorin lowered his eyes crossing his arms.

“Don’t remind me of that.” Thorin grumbled. “It is a shame to my name that I was defeated by him.”

“Your faces were the stuff of legend, Prince Thorin.” Thranduil teased, his voice was dripping amusement. “I can already hear the legends about those expressions…”

“Yes, yes, I want to see you try.” Thorin said.

“I did, remember?”

Thorin remembered of course, not only Bilbo had won but Thranduil had best them both. Thorin snorted shaking his head.

“Yes, I do.”

Thranduil chuckled his chest warming up when Thorin broke into a content smile, it was such a relaxed expression Thranduil was quite entrance by it. Soon the charm was broken when Legolas and Fíli demanded Thorin’s attention, Thranduil hesitated and Thorin waited, but nothing else was said.

“Come, your brother and my nephew are quite the demanding Princes.”

Thranduil followed cursing his own weakness and cursing the softness of his heart, all it took for Thranduil to be at Thorin’s mercy was watching him being nice and smiling genuinely at him.

*****

Thranduil sat at the table in Thorin’s private cottage in the grazing lands.

He felt at ease after his heat was over and he was back to being his normal self. No more dreams and no more uncomfortable feelings around the Dwarf glaring at him intently. Thranduil was tempted to roll his eyes, but he decided against it, he was no child after all and a small, tiny bit part of him was enjoying the attention.

Everyone else was busying themselves on the other room serving food and hot beverages while Thorin attended to the wounded Elf.

“Are you highly dysfunctional, Prince Thranduil? Or you just do it because you find it funny to bother me?” Thorin asked dryly taking his heavy coat off while placing a bowl with warm water and some athelas in it.

Thranduil scowled hissing when his gesture made the cut on his right cheek deepened, both Princes could hear the storm right outside the door with the winds hitting the door and the windows with strength. Laughter and conversation reached them in the corner of the cottage where Thorin was preparing everything to clean up the wounds on a stubborn Thranduil.

“Stay still.” Thorin drawled out glaring worriedly at Thranduil, his mind working on how he should treat the wounds while trying to ignore the smooth, pale torso of the Elf.

“Stop ordering me around, _Dwarf.”_ Thranduil finally replied only to receive another glare form Thorin.

“Stop arguing with me, _elf”_ Thorin shook his head kneeling down until he was face to face with the Elf, his hands were clean and he was holding a piece of white cloth to clean the  injuries. “Didn’t I tell you to not bother Stardust?”

Thranduil opened his mouth to argue but he decided best to be silent.

Everything had been going well with Legolas, Fíli and the other’s getting ready for a late meal in the cottage, until Thorin decided to show Thranduil his favourite mount. They had approached the now empty grazing lands when afternoon was already falling and the lights from the torches lit up the road leading to Erebor. Thorin promised a second, Thranduil had been curious and thus, both of them approached the war-goat. It was a magnificent animal, dark fur, deep eyes; he was larger than the war-goats Thranduil had seen so war and the goat had a set of hardened horns in a semi-circular way.  Thorin had advised Thranduil against approaching Stardust without him, Thranduil had been stubborn. The goat attacked without mercy hitting Thranduil straight on his chest, his hoofs sharp enough to cut through his clothing and leave a nasty mark on his cheek. Everything had been fast but, what Thranduil did remember clearly was Thorin’s enrage scream in Khuzdûl to the beast.  Stardust had recoiled embarrassed glancing at his master before moving away to his barn.

Thorin had looked over at Thranduil the worry had been so clear behind those eyes, Thranduil wouldn’t dare to say no when Thorin led him to his cottage. And now, now the company was trapped during a snowstorm with Thorin tending to Thranduil’s wounds; no one dare to interrupt the Princes.

“He cut your cheek. How did he do it?” Thorin shook his head while placing the warm cloth on the bleeding cheek.

Thranduil couldn’t help shooting a quick glance at Thorin who was completely focused on his task and, wasn’t Thranduil happy his heat had been over a week ago? The Elven-prince was tempted to sigh in relief, but the intake of breath made his chest hurt.

“He got you really good, didn’t he?” Thorin furrowed his brows when he lowered his gaze to the naked chest of the Elf. Thranduil was now wearing two big bruises a mixture of purple and dark green; for a brief moment the black eyes of the Dwarf wandered lower until he saw the most curious thing ever.

There on the flat abdomen was a long, white scar.

He didn’t know why, he didn’t know what made him do it; the only thing Thorin was sure of was he needed to touch it. He stretched his hand ready to brush his fingertips on the scar when Thranduil stood up rather fast stepping away from Thorin.

Everyone went silent turning their attentions to the sudden commotion in the other room, Glorfindel furrowed his brows watching carefully for he was most certain Thorin must have asked or at least see the scar on Thranduil’s abdomen.

“Wha…What were you trying to do?!” Thranduil was trembling, he grimaced when his chest protested at the abruptly movement. The Elven-Prince felt the blood rolling down his cheek but he was too startled by what Thorin almost did.

The Dwarven-Prince was still kneeling down slightly upset by what he almost did because he certainly had bothered Thranduil with his gesture. He straightened up tilting his head to eye Thranduil with a mixture of concern and puzzlement.

“I apologize.” Thorin spoke softly the words taking a great deal of struggle to leave his mouth; it was hard to apologize when he didn’t understand why he should be sorry for. “I just…I thought you Elves didn’t scar.”

Thranduil looked away trying to control his heartbeat, he didn’t know why he allowed this foolishness to get as far as it got. He had been aware of his changing feelings; he knew he was getting more sensitive to Thorin. Whatever was happening to him, he didn’t like it, he didn’t like the warming of his heart whenever Thorin did something unexpectedly nice or was just being his stupid, dwarvish self.

Awkward silence fell between them only broken by the wild winds outside the cottage; cold was starting to sneak in making Thorin shiver. The Dwarven-prince pursed his lips trying to look everywhere but at the scar he suddenly felt very curious about. Thranduil for his part was trying very hard to get under control of his emotions and his thoughts; he hesitated a few minutes before he returned to his place in the chair in front of the fire.

“It’s a personal matter.” Thranduil mumbled without looking over at Thorin, his own fingertips caressing the wound with tenderness something that confused Thorin a great deal. “It’s something…that happened a long time ago and it’s a reminder…”

Thorin nodded placing the white cloth under the warm water wringing the cloth before cleaning up the cut on Thranduil’s cheek. Thranduil soon went silent and Thorin decided to not ask any questions about the scar or why Thranduil suddenly looked so wishful and sorrowful.

“Did you…” Thorin trailed off creasing his brows as he thought on the question he wanted to ask, Thranduil tilted his head shooting Thorin a curious glance. “Did you have a good day?”

Thranduil raised his eyebrows, the Elven-Prince contemplate the answer while Thorin keep on cleaning his cut with care. The Dwarf soon put the cloth down lifting a small bowl with a strange, aromatic cream in it. Thorin raised his eyes looking directly into Thranduil’s blue ones, silently Thorin grabbed a little of the substance on his fingertips before placing them softly on Thranduil’s cheek.

“I did.” Thranduil finally answered looking away while Thorin covered the cut with the ointment. “It was…unexpected. I could almost swear you were going to make me do something _embarrassing._ ”

Thorin chuckled, his lips curling up in a smirk, “I was very tempted, elf.”

Thranduil smiled back snorting, “Then I am glad you decided to behave like a civilized being and not the brutish creature you usually are.”

“Hn, are you still moaning because I won our little bet?” Thorin replied with a huge grin adorning his lips. “You really are a sore loser.”

“Please, your winning was luck.” Thranduil said remembering why exactly Thorin had won the fight.

“Tell me, O Elven-Prince, how it was luck?” Thorin shook his head. “You should really admit I’m better than you, elf, it would safe you further humiliation.”

“As if…” Thranduil shook his head, “If it hadn’t been because I was…”

Thorin quirked a brow when Thranduil trailed off the Elf’s cheeks burn with embarrassment and soon Thranduil turned his head away shyly. Thorin opened his mouth ready to ask what the hell just happened but thought better of it. He could use this little piece of information later on, for now he just didn’t want to argue or upset Thranduil any further.

“We will see I believe this deserves a rematch.” Thorin finished cleaning the cut shooting Thranduil a smug expression. “Unless, of course you’re afraid to lose again, _elf.”_

“Next time you will be sorry, _Dwarf_.” Thranduil said smirking dangerously at Thorin; this time around it was the Dwarf the one looking away shyly.

Thorin stood up bringing another cloth with him; he put it inside the bowl before presenting the item to Thranduil.

“This has some athelas in it, you can…” Thorin gestured with his hands to the naked chest of the Elf, Thranduil couldn’t help but shoot an amusing stare at the Dwarf who suddenly was acting all flustered.

“I mean, you can rub this on your chest to help with the bruises.” Thorin then placed the bowl beside Thranduil before turning around. “Would you…like some tea?”

“That would be nice, thank you.” Thranduil rubbed the wet clothe on his chest, the sweet fragrance of athelas filling his lungs and bringing relief to his body and spirit. “I believe Legolas and Bilbo were already working on the tea and the food, perhaps we can tell them to stop spying on us and bring some to us.”

As soon as Thranduil said this, the other room started being noisy again; Thranduil looked out of the corner of his eyes at Legolas who shot one last worried glance to his father before helping Bilbo out. Thorin could only roll his eyes chuckling lightly while sitting beside Thranduil content with the fact he and Thranduil could spend more than an hour without fighting like children. He had noticed things had changed; little by little everything in their interactions was changing into something less stressful, less force. It scared Thorin greatly, but a part of him was also excited to see what would happen next for he never imagined a Dwarf and an Elf could be friends. Thorin turned to Thranduil who had his eyes closed with a tiny smile adorning his features; Thorin thought the strangest friendship was beginning between them.

_More than friendship…_

Thorin scowled scaring away those foolish thoughts. Only friendship should be forged between, nothing else.

For some reason, this line of thought made Thorin feel a pain in his chest he never thought possible. If the Dwarven-Prince had been paying attention he would have seen Thranduil wearing the same worried expression as Thorin, the Elven-Prince was feeling the same piercing pain I n his chest wondering just why he was feeling this way.

Glorfindel furrowed his brows worriedly watching Thorin and Thranduil, his mind set on keeping a close eye on them from now on.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went to the movies to watch The Hobbit, let me tell you I love it, I just...I cried like a fool but I love the movie.  
> I hope you guys like this chapter, next one a guest appearance by a servant of Dol-Guldur, Thráin learns an important piece of information about Elves, Thranduil receives a painful gift and Thorin has to comfort a mourning Elf.


	7. The Marchwarden's Sword

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas receives an unexpected gift, Thorin comes to realize he is in deep trouble and Thráin is growing darker and greedy by the minute.

**Chapter 7**

**The Marchwarden’s Sword**

 

The snowstorm last all the following day and the day after that.

While Thorin, Thranduil and the rest of their companions shared a nice, warm time in the Prince’s cottage, a dark figure traveling all the way from Dol-Guldur approached the mountain.  The dark figured rode through the strong winds and the falling snow with one purpose in mind: King Thráin.

The strong winds blew the snowflakes around creating a thick, white curtain of mist right in front of the gates of Erebor. The Night Watch could not see beyond their arms, but they were not worried about an invasion or an attack, Middle-Earth had yet to breed a race capable of surviving in such a cold. The guards passed ale and wine to keep themselves warm, some of them were inside the guard’s room while the younger ones were sent to the wall to keep an eye on the Valley. Young Gimnar had enlisted himself in the Royal Army for adventure, he dreamt of going out and conquering worlds and cities much like the legends of old; the young Dwarf wrapped his arms around himself while looking into the distance resigning himself at being sent to watch the gates of Erebor.

There was nothing to see, he felt the biting cold sneaking inside his clothes and brushing his skin. He never thought the path to adventures would end with him becoming a gate keeper. He grunted thanking his companion who passed him a boot of wine, drinking made him feel warm already, he leaned against the wall lifting his eyes and he almost dropped the booth when his eyes focused on something in the distance.

The young Dwarf leaned against the wall; he narrowed his eyes and tried to see this shadow in the distance. He thought perhaps his eyes were playing a trick on him, there was no way anyone would be approaching the mountain with this weather and yet…Gimnar opened his eyes wide stepping back a little, his companions questioned him, they also leaned against the wall before one of them cursed out loud.

There in the distance came a single black rider carrying with him the banner of Dol-Guldur. Gimnar straightened up; he turned around and ran until he reached the guard’s room to announce their visitor.

*****

Fundin, father of Balin and Dwalin, was trying to speak with his King and friend once more.

The situation in the Iron Hills and Khand was starting to turn rather dangerous for Erebor, but the King had been busy in his office and with the arrangements of his new Throne. Fundin watched as his friend glanced with strange eyes the new Throne, dark green decorated the back, hard marble shaped with geometrical forms and at the very highest point a strange space for something, something Thráin had refused to talk about.

“It is almost ready, my friend.” The King spoke to Fundin who couldn’t shake his uneasiness at the strange attitude from his King. Thráin turned to him ready to say something when someone barged in the Throne Room running rather agitated.

Fundin and Thráin turned to the oldest member of the gate keepers, the old Dwarf was looking tiredly at the Lords, sweat rolling down his face with his eyes wide open torn between shock and horror.

“What is this?” Thráin’s voice resounded in the Throne Room, his eyes glared angrily at the gate keeper. “Why have you barged in uninvited running like a wild wolf?”

“My Liege, my Liege…I apologize but…” The old guard took a deep breath flickering his eyes from Fundin to the King. “A messenger, my King, a messenger has arrived.”

Fundin furrowed his brows turning his body to face the guard completely, “A messenger at such an hour and with this weather?”

“He may as well come from the underworld to survive under this storm.” Thráin commented shaking his head.

The guard winced hesitating, “My King, I believe you may be speaking the truth.”

“What do you mean?”

The guard keeper recoiled under the stares of Fundin and the King, “My Liege the messenger comes from Dol-Guldur.”

Fundin and Thráin were left speechless, the King went rigid his mind already working on a plan to protect his treasure from this supposedly messenger and a surprise attack. Fundin took a step forward placing his hand on the hilt of his axe.

“What did he say?” Fundin finally asked.

“He has a message and gifts for the King Under the Mountain. He came in here wearing the banner of the Fortress but also a white banner to parlay with the King.” The guard said nervously wriggling his hands. “What should I tell him, My King? Right now he is being watched by my Dwarves and a few soldiers.”

The word gift wrapped tightly around the King’s mind, his curiosity transformed into eagerness allowing darkness and desire to take home upon the King’s heart. What kind of gift could one enemy offer to another? Thráin smirked waving his hand away, he turned around sitting comfortably on his Throne. Fundin creased his brows narrowing his eyes at the King with dread filling his heart.

“Tell him to come in here, unarmed.” The King spoke coldly, with authority. “Bring my Royal guard, if this messenger makes a single attempt against me we will send his head back to his master.”

The guard shot Fundin a quick glance before bowing and leaving, Fundin regarded the King for a moment but he decided to stay silent when Thráin tapped his Throne with his fingers his eyes fixated on the door.

“We cannot send our enemy away without knowing what he wants and what he has brought.” Thráin finally said without looking at Fundin. “This can turn out to be beneficial for us.”

“Nothing good can come from Dol-Guldur, My King.” Fundin finally said. “You have heard the news from the Woodland Realm, Gondor, Esgaroth and even Imladris.”

Thráin made a face, fury and disgust crossing his face, their conversation however was cut short when the Royal Guard entered the Throne room surrounding a single figure engulfed in black and red.

It was a man.                                                                       

He was tall, with long dark hair, broad shoulders, and strong posture. He would have been rather handsome if it wasn’t for his eyes; those two orbs lack any colour in them, there was only blackness, deep and unchanging.  Fundin shivered when he got to see inside those black orbs, he could swear he felt himself being dragged into the darkness surrounded by desperation and nothingness. The man had come wearing black and red with a single banner attached to his left arm, it was a mark many had seen in Dol-Guldur but few remembered from the distant past. The Dwarves had forgotten what the black banner with a single red eye in the middle meant, but many Elves still remembered this symbol with hatred and sorrow.

The man tilted his head, his lips curling upwards before he spread his arms bending over with his head lowered.

“Hail, Thráin, son of Thrór, rightful King Under the Mountain!” His voice was deep, soft and entrancing, yet there were traces of coldness behind it; Fundin frowned crossing his arms while Thráin merely nodded back looking icily at the messenger.

The man straightened up offering Thráin a grin, “May your days be long and your reign just.”

Fundin and Thráin frowned with the Royal Guard getting ready if the man decided to do something unexpected. The man stepped forward only to have two dwarves come before him with their swords draw; the man chuckled lifting his arms in a sign of peace.

“Sweet words coming from the servant of an enemy.” Thráin finally spoke regarding the man critically. “To what do I owed the honour of this unexpected visit?”

The man smirked his hands moving swiftly to the straps of the box he had been carrying with him all this time. It was a large, wooden box, he stretched his hand keeping it balanced while facing King Thráin; he was enjoying the uneasiness and the fear coming from the members of the Royal Guard and the arrogance of the King.

“It is true, My King Thráin, my Master has been an enemy to the Elves for a very long time.” The man spoke clearly and his voice suddenly dripped sweetness and sympathy. “It was a tragic story filled with misunderstandings and broken bonds; however, my Master has never considered the noble race of the Dwarves enemies.”

“That’s not what the Elves said.” Fundin interrupted the man feeling uneasy. “And it certainly isn’t what happened when our convoys were attacked or your Master raised war against us a long time ago.”

“Of course, but you know how Elves love to mislead the stories of old so they can appear as the victims and the rest of us as the villains.” Then the man lowered his head speaking with a hint of fake sorrow in his voice. “What you say about the attacks and the war are nothing else that vile misunderstandings, Lord Fundin, nothing else and nothing more.”

Before anything else could be said about the matter, the man turned to Thráin and a single thought appeared in the Dwarven-King’s mind, he could see clearly the siege of Doriath and the lack of payment for the Dwarvish work. He remembered when the Elves turned their backs on the Dwarves of Moria and later on blamed the Line of Durin for the wakening of some beast inside the mine.

“However, my Lords, I have not come here to speak of this.” The man said bowing his head. “I have come here because, regardless of my Master’s feelings regarding the Elves, he does have a great respect for the Master Dwarves and the Line of Durin.”

The man offered the box with a simple gesture of his head, Thráin glanced the box curiously his mind finding true and fairness behind the man’s words whereas Fundin was still wary of such sweet conversation. The adviser could not shake the feeling something was going on, that this visit held more than what the man was trying to reveal.

“My Master has never held ill will against the Line of Durin, thus when he heard the news he sent me, his humble servant, to bring gifts to celebrate the great news.”

“Gifts? What kind of gifts? Why the noble gesture?” Thráin spoke again standing up, he tilted his head regarding the man in front of him. He began descending the few stairs of his Throne approaching the man slowly.

The man curled his lips, his grin growing when he realized King Thráin had only eyes for him.

“An engagement gift, my King Thráin.” The man replied as if it was the most obvious answer. “My Master heard of the great news about your engagement to Prince Thranduil from the Woodland Realm! If there has always been an Alpha ready to claim such an exquisite Omega of the Line of the Silvan Elves, it should be someone such as yourself, my Lord.”

The man tilted his head his black eyes regarding with care as a look of pure confusion went through the King’s face. The man then spoke again, making sure his words were tainted with persuasion.

“My Master also sends a message to the King Under the Mountain, he congratulates you on such a feature and for having been so fortunate to get Prince Thranduil as his future consort.”

Thráin snorted chuckling darkly shaking his head at the messenger, the man furrowed his brows trying to look puzzle, but his black orbs made it impossible for Fundin to find honesty behind the gesture.

Thráin shifted fixing his posture when his mind brought images of the Elven-Prince and the carnal desired he felt for him was renowned.

“Your Master is an idiot.” Thráin replied his voice dripping anger. “It is not me, but my first-born the one promise to the elf.”

The man straightened up, he raised his brows before a look of pure confusion crossed his features. Thráin watched closely as the man regarded the King for a long time, everyone was silent and Fundin was so very tempted to end this strange meeting but, as soon as he was about to open his mouth the messenger spoke again.

“But, surely King Thráin the Great deserves to life forever more so than his inexperience son!” The man spoke as if shocked, then he shook his head pursing his lips.

Thráin frowned shooting a clever stare to the man; his heart was beating fast while his mind went over what the messenger had said. Both, man and Dwarf stared at each other for what seemed like forever, tension forming around them while a strange pull wrapped around Thráin’s heart. Fundin watched as his King tensed, his face darkening.

“Leave! All of you leave now and leave me alone with this man.”

His word was law and, while his Royal Guard hesitated looking at each other for a second, all of them turned and left the Throne Room. Fundin opened his eyes rather alarmed, he approached the King trying to reason with him while shooting distrustful stares to the smug, looking man.

“My King, surely you won’t want to speak with a servant of our enemies alone.”

“I want to, Fundin. I do want to. Now, leave.” Thráin didn’t even bother to look at his friend, Fundin hesitated again but then he dropped his shoulders leaving the Throne Room while closing the door behind him; as he left, Fundin realized he would need to speak with prince Thorin and Dwalin as soon as they were back.

Thráin approached the man looking up and down the messenger for a long time; his mind was set on a single goal, a single question. Thráin unsheathed his sword looking at the man as if he was nothing more than dirt on his both, he was slightly impressed when the sharp edge of his sword pressed closely to the man’s neck but he didn’t even flinch at the contact.

“Tell me, messenger, what did you mean by your early comment?” Thráin tilted his head. “Your answer better be truthful or else, I will send your head to your master.”

The man nodded gracefully before speaking, “As I said before, my Master had dealings with the Elves in the past. He himself found a mate amongst them, someone who would submit to his every wish, his every command.”

Thráin tensed, he felt dizzy under the suggestive tone of the messenger, his mind bringing the blue eyes of the Elven-Prince, the soft skin, he imagined the moans of submission while Thráin took possession of him. The man smirked, Thráin never noticed the black of his eyes gleaming for the very first time.

“When he found out about the engagement, he certainly thought his Majesty, King Thráin, in all his wisdom and glory had found a way for Dwarves to finally dominate the Elves of the Woods.” The man’s voice was sweet, entrancing, his words encasing the heart of the King in greed and corruption. “While my Master can’t dialogue with Elves, he can do so with the Race of Durin.”

“Why thinking I will associate myself in such a way with the Elves?” Thráin asked coldly trying to control his own desires. “Why thinking I will marry Prince Thranduil?”

The man felt his smile grow leaning in, speaking softly only for the King’s ears.

“Surely you have smelt him.” The man said softly. “He must suffer his heat while in your halls; surely you must have seen him in your dreams begging to be claimed like the beast he is. O, my King Thráin, the pleasure of having an Elven Omega under you is like nothing, not even gold and riches can bring.”

Thráin swallowed, his eyes darkening while his mind kept working with different images of Thranduil under him. The man chuckled enjoying the effect his words and his enchantment was having on the Dwarven-King.

“But, the real reason, my King Thráin, is that when you mate with one of the Eldar you are blessed with the gift of eternal live.” The man said simply shrugging. “Like I said, King Thráin deserves the gift of immortality more so than a son who is not yet ready to reign. However, it is very noble of you to pass this gift on your son.”

Thráin shook his head, he glared at the man dropping his sword while eyeing the box the man still held in his arm. His mind was already working on the possibilities; he was already planning what he would do with an immortal life, to be forever King Under the Mountain.

“What had you brought there?” Thráin nodded to the box, the man opened the box showing an elvish sword.

Thráin glanced at the sword with care and admiration, the sheath was made of gold and silver while the hilt wore green and black. There were some inscriptions on the sheath, Elvish that Thráin did not understand. The man smirked, his expression was one of pure pleasure as he spoke.

“This, my King Thráin, is a gift for Prince Thranduil with our best regards. I am sure he will appreciate it very much.” The man’s voice was dripping amusement and malice but Thráin did not pay him any mind, he grabbed the box before quirking a brow at the man.

“Now, since my Master thought it would be you the one to marry Prince Thranduil he sent you a kingly gift.” The man sneaked his hand inside his coat putting out a small box, he opened it revealing a single golden ring.

Thráin looked admiringly at the ring, wondering why the mark on the gemstone was so familiar. The man gave the ring to Thráin before explaining.

“This is the ring of the descendants of the Dwarves of Nogrod. One of seven. A gift to bring you fortune and a long reign, my lord.” The man said but Thráin ignored him while he smirked placing the ring right beside the one given to the Line of Durin.

“I won’t be sending your head to your Master, after all.” Thráin replied with his smirk still in place. “These certainly are kingly gifts. Now, you will be leaving Erebor between the hour, or else, I will send your Master only ashes of what was once your body. You may tell him I am grateful for such gifts, but whatever deal or business he was trying to make with me it is not welcome in Erebor.”

The man bowed stepping backwards, “My Master only wants respectful and sensitive allies, King Thráin, his gifts are a show of good will. I will pass upon your message to him, King Thráin. Thank you for your patience and for listening to what I have to say.”

The man turned around and left leaving Thráin behind still admiring the hand holding two of the seven rings given to the Dwarven Kingdoms.

By the time the man was back on his horse and riding away from Erebor he laughed, he laughed with his heart jumping in joy. He grinned maliciously regretting not being there to see the Elf’s face when the sword was given to him, nor when the greed and darkness growing in Thráin consumed him in madness. The man laughed again, his task was done and the King along with the Mountain would fall in time for his Master to rebuild what he lost.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

The visit from the emissary of Dol-Guldur couldn’t be kept a secret.

It took him almost a week, but Fundin finally convinced Thráin keeping such information a secret from not only the council but also to Prince Thranduil would be a huge mistake. With reluctance and resentment, Thráin agreed to a meeting in which Fundin and him would speak of what had happened.  Thráin had considered keeping the sword brought to Thranduil but he felt giving it to the Elf wouldn’t be so bad, if this sword came for the fortress it was possible it belong to some important Elf or something. King Thráin however would no part with his new ring, nor would he mention it during the meeting. He would keep it secret much like his gemstone, his Arkenstone, until the time to proclaim his magnificence came.

While King Thráin found himself thinking about his own selfish desires and the machinations forming in his mind; Prince Thorin had been trying to keep Erebor standing. It was thanks to him people had food during the snowstorm and the commerce started as soon as Dwarves and Men were capable of traveling again. In the last couple of days, the respect the Dwarves of Erebor and most of the High Council held for Thorin grew while mistrust and wariness regarding Thráin filled their hearts.

Thorin entered the council room with Thranduil and Glorfindel following him close behind, in the room his father was sitting on a high chair, his black eyes narrowing at his son then at the Elves. Dís and Thorin noticed their father’s eyes delaying unpleasantly on Prince Thranduil, Thorin felt a wave of protectiveness coming onto him, he moved to block his father’s stare while helping Thranduil to the chair closest to him. Thranduil quirked a brow to Thorin, they stared at each other for a moment before Thorin felt his cheeks burnt. Thranduil chuckled accommodating himself while greeting Dís, Fundin and Balin.

Everyone was finally in the room, all of them sitting on a rectangular table with Thráin occupying to head of the table, his eyes looking around before speaking.

“Almost two weeks ago we received a visit in the middle of the snowstorm.” He spoke coldly, quite arrogantly while playing with the ring on his finger. Sitting in front of him was a wooden box Thorin and Dís would shoot curious glances once in a while.

“In the middle of the snowstorm, my Liege?” One of the council Dwarven said. “What kind of messenger arrives at such a dire hour with such an infernal weather? Did he survive?”

“Oh, he did Naght, he did.” Thráin replied his lips curling up. “It was a man from Dol-Guldur.”

General gasps sound all through the table, Thranduil tensed clenching his jaw feeling as Glorfindel shifted beside him.  Thorin leaned forward furrowing his brows, he shot Dís a quick glance and the she-dwarf stared at him just as confused.

“Did you…I hope you put him in a cell or something, King Thráin!” Another council Dwarf spoke. “Only evil could come of such a messenger that comes in the night like a thief.”

“He wore a white banner asking for a word with me and bringing gifts.” Thráin said simply, he glared at the council member. “For my honour, I won’t kill a messenger bringing a peace offering!”

No one could argue with this, while Dol Guldur was a worrisome enemy, if it was truth this man brought a white banner the right thing to do was to hear him out before acting. Many of the Dwarves nodded and praised their King for such a diplomatic action. Thranduil was ready to argue, to say something when a heavy hand placed itself on top of his, he furrowed his brows looking down to see Thorin’s hand wrapping itself around his. The Dwarven-Prince didn’t even look at him, but the gesture was clear. Thranduil took a deep breath squeezing Thorin’s hand lightly assuring the Dwarf he would not intervene.

“What did he want then, Father?” Dís questioned her father glancing at him with open curiosity, the King turned to his daughter before lifting his eyes to Thranduil.

“He wanted to congratulate me for the engagement and to bring gifts to me and Prince Thranduil.” The King waved his hand silencing the room that was getting excited all over again. “He brought a trinket for me…however, for Prince Thranduil he brought a Kingly sword.”

Thráin smirked presenting the box while still staring at Thranduil, “He and his Master thought it was me and not Thorin the one getting married to you, prince Thranduil. A common mistake, of course.”

Everyone went silent, Thranduil felt Thorin trembled under his fingertips, he could tell Thorin was tensed and rather angered.  The Elven-Prince tried to act normally, tilting his head while shooting a quick glance to the box.

“It is good to know the information of our Kingdoms are not getting quite right into the fortress.” Thranduil finally spoke.

“Yes, it is.” Thráin replied darkly, the King shook his head turning to the room. “He didn’t say anything else. But, I do have to agree this visit is quite suspicious, what are your thoughts regarding this matter, Dís?”

The meeting then turned into a conversation about the intentions of Dol-Guldur and the meaning behind the gifts. Thráin would evade the topic of the trinket given to him, and he only said the sword was nothing else but a sword forged for a tall individual by clever hands. Fundin soon intervened speaking about his impressions and what the Gate Keepers told him of this mysterious man; Dís soon immersed in the discussion with Thorin much to his father’s annoyance.  While speaking and sharing his concerns along with Glorfindel, Thranduil couldn’t help but feel the warm coming from the hand still wrapped around his. The Elven-Prince wasn’t even sure how to feel under the protective gesture, not to the feeling of safety and comfort if brought to his soul. Soon, and quite without realizing it, Thranduil’s fingertips started teasing the rough patterns of the hand, he couldn’t help the smile forming on his face when Thorin gripped him tightly turning for the very first time to him sending a warning glare to the Elf.

“Is there something the matter, Thorin?” King Thráin spoke coldly, his voice dripping anger when he glared at his son feeling a strange rage towards Thorin. “Is there something you and Prince Thranduil wish to share with us?”

Thranduil returned the glare King Thráin was shooting Thorin with the same intensity, something inside Thranduil shifted wanting to guard the Dwarf sitting beside him of the humiliation Thráin had been trying to provoke on his first-born. Thorin was about to drop his hand, but his heart almost stopped beating when Thranduil didn’t let go; Glorfindel turned around rolling his eyes feeling like a youngling all over again while watching Thranduil behaved like a teen. Dís couldn’t help but smirked at her brother, she knew there was something else going on over there and she hated her father was such a prick with her brother.

“Prince Thorin was trying to dissuade me to not share my thoughts, King Thráin.” The Elf spoke clearly glancing around to room only to find a pair of angry eyes staring at him.

“And what is it Thorin doesn’t want you to share with me, Prince Thranduil.” The way Thráin said his name made Thranduil shivered in disgust, he felt those heavy eyes on him wanting, desiring. The instinct inside of him stirred with warning while he shifted his weight forward to speak clearly.

“I believe my father should be warned about this strange visit as well as those strange attacks on the convoys on the Iron Hills and Khand.” Thranduil said clearly facing Thráin. “This is not normal, the last time I was in the Woodland realm we heard of the strange sightings of orcs and wargs coming from the Misty Mountains, rumours about them forming some kind of alliance were growing making us believe there was a danger yet to be discovered.”

“Which in turn lead you to my Kingdom to be betrothed to my son.” King Thráin smirked cruelly when he saw the sudden flash of anger in the blue eyes of the Elven-Prince.

Thorin shifted uncomfortably, he felt coldness coming from Thranduil, the Dwarven-Prince glanced at Thranduil out of the corner of his eyes to see the disgust in the Elven-Prince’s expression. His heart dropped remembering they were engaged because of some political play, Thorin had known, he still knew, his marriage to the Elven-Prince was a way to connect their Kingdoms because of a military and commercial need. Nothing else and nothing more; if it hadn’t been for these needs Thranduil would have probably fallen into the arms of King Bard. This thought brought bitterness and sorrow to Thorin’s heart, the Dwarven-Prince let go of Thranduil’s hand refusing to look back at Thranduil or accepted the Elven-Prince attempts to grab his hand again.

“That may be true, still this doesn’t change we should probably investigate this.” Thranduil replied feeling cold and slightly hurt at the sudden rejection from Thorin. “It would not do the Kingdom any good if we are part of some scheming from the evil guarding Dol-Guldur.”

King Thráin narrowed his eyes at Thranduil, he stared at the Prince with amusement before nodding condescendingly at Thranduil.

“I believe Prince Thranduil may be corrected.” One of the older council Dwarves spoke glancing at Thranduil then at King Thráin. “There couldn’t have been much for the messenger to learn from us but, perhaps, his intentions were not what we may think. I believe we should start paying attention to the Fortress, perhaps get some messengers to King Bard and King Oropher to be ready for anything unusual.”

Thranduil nodded gratefully at the Dwarf before turning to Thráin, for a moment Thranduil saw annoyance on the King’s eyes but soon it was replaced by cold indifference. The conversation then turned into a well-elaborated plan to reach the other Kingdoms to be on high alert. While everyone was speaking, Thranduil felt his eyes being drawn to the box, curiosity filled his heart at what kind of sword could the servants of Dol-Guldur gift him with. Thráin saw his eyes; he smirked placing his hand on top of the box while admiring the features of the Elf.  Soon the council meeting was over and most of the Dwarves were exiting the room, Thranduil turned to Thorin who had been silent the rest of the meeting always looking away trying to stay away from Thranduil.

Thorin could feel the Elven-Prince’s eyes on him; he knew Thranduil must be wondering why his sudden change of attitude but Thorin couldn’t even face his confusing thoughts. He didn’t want to, he had promised himself to not be overly emotional towards the Elf but it was difficult. It really was difficult.

“Prince Thranduil, please I would like for you to stay for a moment.” Thráin spoke loudly; his tone didn’t leave any room for an argument.

“Excuse me?” Thranduil turned quite shocked but wary, Glorfindel stood beside him shooting a quick glance at Thorin then at Dís.

Thráin sat back on his chair pointing at the box in front of him, “I would like to give to you what this messenger brought for you; however, I would like to have a few words with you first. Alone, preferably.”

“Father, I was thinking on taking Prince Thranduil to…” Thorin didn’t even have the chance to speak when his father hit the table snarling angrily at his son.

“Your King is speaking, Thorin!” Thráin clenched his fists nodding to the door. “Leave, all of you. I will speak with Prince Thranduil and then you can try to impress him with whatever pathetic attempts to gain his favour you came up with.”

Thorin stood defiantly on spot; everyone in the room was waiting for something to happen. Thranduil was the first to react, he placed a calming hand on top of Thorin’s shoulder and Thorin soon felt a wave of comfort coming to him.

“There is no need to react so violently, King Thráin.” Thranduil said approaching Thráin, the Elven-Prince shoot a quick glance at Dís who nodded briefly before she dragged Thorin away with her; Glorfindel let the weight of his stare on Thranduil letting his friend know he would not be too far from the room.

Thráin sighed massaging his forehead tiredly, he glanced at the table then at Thranduil before speaking.

“I apologize, my son…” Thráin started talking trying to make himself sound tired and sympathetic. Thranduil didn’t know what to think of this sudden change of behaviour, he stood far away from the King to react if there was something to react physically with. “He is an incompetent fool. I don’t think he is ready to be King, I don’t think he is ready to be of any use to you as a companion and future husband.”

“He is not a bad company.” Thranduil finally said gauging the reaction from the King. “And, I have to say he has been doing a great job as a crowned Prince, the people of Erebor love him.”

“Yes, I’ve heard you and him had been playing the role of the perfect betrotheds around the Mountain.” King Thráin tilted his head glancing at Thranduil. “I told him to play his part well, at least Thorin was capable of making most of the common folk I n the Kingdom think this marriage was something born out of love and not only politics.”

For some reason, these words hurt him. It pierced Thranduil’s heart hearing Thorin had approached him under the command of his King. Nevertheless, this didn’t surprise him, there was no love lost between them, and everything was for the greater good of the Kingdom.

“Apparently we will do whatever necessary to keep peace amongst our people and to strengthen our alliance.” Thranduil finally said Thráin nodded caressing his beard.

“Lately, however, I’ve been thinking…” Thráin trailed off, his lips curling up into a leer. “Perhaps, Prince Thranduil shouldn’t be promise to my useless son; perhaps Prince Thranduil would want someone of power, a more…imperious figure to chat with. I bet you crave it.”

Thranduil was so tempted to shiver, to break his expression into one of disgust when the King made such allusions to his status as an omega while shooting lecherous stares his way. But Thranduil was smart and he had been raised to not give in this kind confrontations. He knew he could not allow himself to break at the moment; he could not give in and would not give in to show any weakness before the beast in front of him. Thranduil cocked his head cracking a half-contemptible smile.

“He is not much of a bother anymore.” Thranduil said measuring his words while regarding the King’s reactions. “He has become a fine companion as of late.”

King Thráin clenched his fists, his jaw was trembling with bad contain anger and jealousy. The King then shifted on his chair standing up while motioning Thranduil to come closer, the Elven-Prince hesitated for a moment before doing it.

“I find that hard to believe, but perhaps he is becoming someone more competent.” Thráin didn’t sit down; instead he stood near Thranduil while caressing the smooth surface of the wooden box. “I still pitied you, Prince Thranduil, for it is you the one who would end up with him as a husband.”

“I believe this was an arrangement done between you and my father.” Thranduil replied slightly confused as to where this conversation was going.

King Thráin nodded his eyes fixated on the new ring adorning the middle finger of his left hand, the King took a deep breath lifting his eyes to face Thranduil.

“I could make the engagement go away, you know? I could make sure you marry someone worthy of you, someone who knows how to… _please_ you.”

Thranduil narrowed his eyes furrowing his brows, “I do not think it necessary, King Thráin, my father has given his word as I have. I am to marry Prince Thorin for the greatness of your Kingdom. There is no higher honour than this.”

Thráin shifted angrily, he was ready to slap Thranduil but soon a sweet, melodic voice inside his head stopped him. It would do not good if he were to hurt the Elf, not yet any way. If his assumptions were right, his son had already worked his magic on the elf. Thráin glanced at Thranduil thinking the Elf wasn’t the real problem; the problem had always been and always would be Thorin.

“Of course, I would never force you to break this compromise.” Thráin said changing his posture and his voice, trying to be gently and kind but failing. “Still, if you ever decided you want to marry a King instead of a Prince, all Prince Thranduil has to do is ask.”

Thranduil froze he felt panic sneaked inside his heart while Thráin shoot him a darken stare, the Elven-Prince was about to straighten up and excuse himself when Thráin moved abruptly towards the box.

“I saw some marking on the sheath of the sword; I don’t speak Elvish so I asked one of the scholars to translate it for me. I was quite curious, you see, I have to make sure you won’t be in any danger.” Thráin glanced curiously at Thranduil still wondering why the messenger would bring this gift, what was the meaning behind the sword.

Thranduil for his part felt just as curious, he eyed the box warily but also expectant.

“What did you scholar said?” Thranduil finally asked Thráin furrowed his brows shrugging.

“It said: Marchwarden of Lórien.” Thráin said pursing his lips. “If I am not mistaken Lórien is the strange, magical land of the witch of the Elves, is it not?”

Thráin frown deepened when he realized Thranduil had gone silent; when he turned to the Elf he realized the Elven-Prince looked slightly sick. Thráin then opened the box presenting the sword inside to the Elf, Thranduil opened his eyes slightly, trembling hands lifting slightly to try and reach for the sword.

Time stood still.

Thranduil paled under the sight of the Elvish sword resting in the box, the Elven-Prince felt dizzy a pain like no other went through his heart like a cold blade cutting through his every nerves, a knife twisting an old wound. He didn’t feel nothing, he wasn’t even hearing what King Thráin was saying all that mattered was the sword and who had brought it to him. Thranduil felt his eyes prickled with unshed tears his body was trembling and his mind was screaming at him to run away from the room.

“Did you know the owner?” Thráin questioned quirking his brow.

Thranduil took a deep breath, he would not show weakness it didn’t matter how broken he felt at the moment.

“I did.” Thranduil whispered, Thráin snorted pushing the box towards Thranduil.

“Then, it is safe to say the former owner must be dead by now. The messenger brought it with his best regards.” Thráin ignored the glare coming from Thranduil and the heartbroken glint in the Elf’s eyes. “Keep it, as a reminder to never send useless warriors to face your enemies, then.”

Thranduil felt his lip quivered in anger and sadness, he grabbed the sword shooting one last glare at Thráin before turning away and making his way to the door. Thráin shrugged the Prince’s behaviour waving his hand away, he glanced at Thranduil devouring with his eyes every inch of the Elvish body he could see, his desired growing when he realized he could have the Elf, that he should have him as to obtain the gift of immortality. Just before Thranduil left Thráin called to him, Thranduil never turned but he stopped at the sound of the commanding voice, this made Thráin grin.

“Do remember my offer, Prince Thranduil.” Thráin said his voice dark and lustful. “Someone like you deserves a King instead of a Prince…just said the word and you shall have it.”

“I will keep it in mind.” Thranduil’s answer was but a whisper and soon Thráin was left alone, the King waited a few seconds before he put the heart of the mountain from his pocket. That day the gem was giving away different shades of blue and gold and the King couldn’t help but think this was exactly the same colour of Thranduil’s eyes and hair.

*****

Thranduil left the room taking a deep breath.

He stopped after having closed the door behind him taking a few steps away from the Council Room. The Elven-Prince stood still with his left hand wrapped tightly around the hilt of Haldir’s sword, because this was without a shadow of doubt, the sword Haldir had carried with him on that last meeting between them. Thranduil knew his face was showing the brokenness of his heart, he lifted the weapon to his face; his fingertips caressing the title wore by the golden sheath.

Marchwarden of Lórien.

Oh, how proud had been Haldir when the Lady Galadriel had given to him such a gift, how happy had Haldir been when Thranduil worked the hilt with the colours of his the Woodland Realm so Haldir would carry the memory of Thranduil into battle or during his duties in the Golden Forest. Thranduil glanced at the sword feeling two warm tears rolling down his cheeks; the sword was just as it had been the day Haldir had walked away from him. And now this was the only memory he had of the Marchwarden.

Thranduil wiped away the tears from his face; he lowered his eyes trying to keep in control his emotions before he faced anyone. He didn’t want to be asked about the conversation he held with Thráin much less about the sword. Thranduil placed a tired hand on his face taking a deep breath before walking down the corridor. As soon as Thranduil turned left; he stopped dead on his tracks when he came face to face with Thorin, Dís and Glorfindel. Thranduil was trembling, he knew his eyes were filling with new unshed tears and he was desperate for a time alone, for not having near him any Dwarf or any reminder of what the sword in his hand meant. Glorfindel looked over at his friend with concern; he approached Thranduil until his grey eyes fell upon the sword. It took the Captain but a second recognize the sword.

“Thranduil…” he started but Thranduil lifted a hand.

“Not now.”

The Elven-Prince moved past Dís and Thorin without even glancing at them, Glorfindel followed his friend with his eyes feeling his own heart break at Thranduil’s suffering.  

“What the hell was that?” Thorin was frozen in place still trying to process the tears in those blue eyes. “What did father did to him?”

Thorin took a step towards the Council Room but was stopped by Glorfindel; the Captain of the Elven Guard shook his head piercing Thorin with a single stare.

“Please follow him, Prince Thorin, make sure he is well.”

Thorin hesitated for a moment, he furrowed his brows at Glorfindel looking back to the hallway where Thranduil had disappeared walking away from them rather fast but disoriented.  The Dwarven-Prince wasn’t sure what happened, he didn’t quite comprehend the situation still he turned around running to catch up to Thranduil and help him in any way he could.

Dís and Glorfindel stared at one another worriedly, the Captain sighed sadly feeling apprehension for he knew for certain the sword in Thranduil’s hand had been Haldir’s sword.  

When Thorin finally caught up with the Elven-Prince Thranduil was on his knees tears rolling down his cheeks in a corridor leading to the Royal Rooms instead of the guest rooms. Thorin took a step forward feeling his heart break at the sight of Thranduil crying with such disconsolation. He cried silently, only his breathing broke the silence in the hall. Thorin took another step towards the Elf, his own soul feeling a piercing pain as he approached Thranduil. For a brief moment, Thorin’s black eyes flickered to the sword lying in front of Thranduil then he turned his attention back to the Elf who hadn’t even noticed him yet.

What could possibly cause such heart break to Thranduil? How could Thorin help stop the pain?

Thorin didn’t know the answer to the first question, but he could work on the answer of the second. Cautiously, Thorin approached Thranduil kneeling in front of the Elven-Prince placing a tentative hand on his shoulder.

Thranduil jerked away, his eyes red gleaming with tears.

“Wh-what are you doing, _Dwarf?_ ” The word was spat with anger and animosity, Thranduil crawled back before incorporating.  He tried to move but he felt weak faltering on his footsteps only to have Thorin holding him gently. “Let go of me.”

There was no more fight in his voice; he didn’t want to fight any more. Thorin swallowed his own feelings trying to grab the Elf comfortably while guiding him down the hall.

“Let go of me.” Thranduil mumbled again his hand wrapping tightly around the sword. “Let me go, please I just…”

“No.” Thorin answered while guiding Thranduil down corridors he didn’t know.

Something strange happened to Thorin then, something he could not quite explain but he would start associating with Thranduil from then on. His heart was feeling heavy; deep inside his mind he knew he felt sorrow, desperation and loneliness. Thorin turned to Thranduil and he realized these same emotions were all written on the Elven-Prince’s face. The tears were still falling; Thranduil was allowing himself being guide all through the Royal House until he soon found himself in a room full of blue and silver. The Elven-Prince rested his back on the wooden door sliding down with the tears still falling freshly on his face, he didn’t let go of the sword, and he was trying so hard to not break down again. However, there was nothing he could do when soon he found a pair of strong arms wrapped around him, his head resting on a strong shoulder his face near a warm neck, Thranduil allowed the tears and the desperation he felt in his soul out of him breaking down with Thorin watching over him.

Thorin wrapped his arms protectively around the Elven-Prince feeling his own tears reached his eyes when he saw this beautiful creature broke down in his arms. He didn’t know what had happened, but as his black eyes eyed the sword on Thranduil’s hand he knew it had something to do with the sword and the private conversation with his father.  Thorin allowed Thranduil his tears; he allowed the Prince his mumbling in Elvish and desperate hold of those hands. He even allowed the Prince to fall asleep on him, tears still rolling down his cheeks.

*****

Thranduil shifted feeling a warm, soft texture under him.

He opened his eyes warily glancing in front of him, there was no light but that of the silver moon sneaking through the curtain. The Elven-Prince stirred but didn’t change his position when his nostrils caught a familiar, comforting scent; Thranduil grabbed the bed sheets tightly as new tears formed in his tired eyes. The memories of Haldir’s sword being given to him were back, and all the implications of the weapon returning to him after all these years was like the last stab to his already broken, useless heart.

“Are you still sad?” Thorin asked from behind him, Thranduil tensed hating the tears rolling down on his face. The Elven-Prince turned realizing the familiar, comforting scent was that of the Dwarven-Prince standing at the other side of the bed.

Thorin stood there glancing at Thranduil with an unreadable expression on his face, he was carrying a plate filled with pastries and the other was holding a cup of warm tea. Thranduil wiped away his tears vacillating for a moment, he lowered his blue eyes to the bed he was lying in then he lifted his face knowing he was now in Thorin’s room.

“You…I found you lost, down the hall leading to the Royal Rooms.” Thorin said noticing the question in the Elf’s eyes. “I assumed you didn’t want anyone, specially your brother to see you like this.”

Thranduil nodded curtly, he glanced at Thorin who was still standing holding food and a hot drink for him, swallowing his sadness Thranduil sat down. For a brief moment, the Elven-Prince glanced to his right to see Haldir’s sword resting near his reach, his hand moved closer to the object brushing his fingertips on the hilt before stopping himself.

“I thought you may want tea, I also made Bilbo bring some of your favourite pastries and biscuits and cookies.” Thorin continued speaking slightly uncomfortable unable to express what he needed to say. “Everyone knows you are with me, they just…Captain Glorfindel explained to them and your brother, he wasn’t overly found to the idea of you being in my room but…”

“Does my silence bother you?” Thranduil spoke taking the tea from Thorin’s hands, the Elven-Prince realized his sorrow had cut him deeply when he noticed he was freezing cold and the contact of the warm mug felt comfortably around his fingers.

Thorin shifted, he placed the plate with the food on the bed while sitting down facing Thranduil, “A little, I…”

Thorin trailed off, he didn’t know how to explain to Thranduil he spent hours crying holding onto Thorin as if his life depended on it. Thorin didn’t know how to explain to Thranduil his heart had shrank in desperation to try and comfort the Elf in his arms, to make the pain go away and end with Thranduil’s suffering.  Thorin cocked his head seeking those blue orbs, the Elf had his eyelids almost closed his eyes heavy with the burden of tears. And yet…yet, Thorin had never seen him more beautiful than ever.

“Tell me what he did to you and I will make him pay.” Thorin spoke before he could censor himself.

Thranduil tensed looking away while stopping his body and soul from feeling anything. Thorin furrowed his brows puzzled he glanced at the hand of the Elven-Prince remembering how warm had it felt against his early in the day.

“I mean it.” He finally said Thranduil swallowed offering a bitter smile.

“I know.” Thranduil took another long sip from the tea begging the Valar to warm up his cold body. The sense of lost was strong on him, he felt his soul dying all over again when he received the sword, he felt himself slipping away much in the same way he had done so all those years ago.

“He didn’t say anything.” Thranduil lied, Thráin had said a lot of things but it hadn’t been his words but the gift what had ultimately broken Thranduil making him understand he had lost half of his heart and half of his soul even before Legolas was born.

“Is it too forward of me to ask you what happened?” Thorin couldn’t help it; it was like instinct pushing him towards the Elf. It was a small pull; something inside him telling him Thranduil needed him, and only him, more than ever.

Thorin found this laughable; there was nothing he could offer Thranduil that the Elven-Prince didn’t have or couldn’t obtain by his own means. And yet, the Dwarven-Prince stretched his hand feeling the coldness oozing from the Elf’s hand. Thorin furrowed his brows lifting worried eyes to the Elven-Prince who couldn’t quite retrieve his hand for there was comfort coming from Thorin’s touch.

Thranduil was unsure; he glanced at Thorin for a long time until he finally lowered his gaze.

“This sword belonged to someone dear to me.” Thranduil felt his voice trembling; he remembered the first time Haldir came to him with the sword in hand. “He…We heard the news about his dead, we never got his body or anything else but the rumour that he had been slayed by a group of orcs and servants of Dol-Guldur. There was no grave not memory I could keep.”

Thorin glanced at the sword his face changing into rage and horror, “They…those fucking animals! They dare to send this to you?”

Thorin’s rage caught Thranduil by surprised, the Elven-Prince wasn’t seeking sympathy or pity; he certainly didn’t expected he would get this reaction out of Thorin. Nevertheless, his heart felt lighter, swallowing his tears he let his fingertips brushed softly on top of Thorin’s hand. The Dwarven-Prince locked eyes with Thranduil calming himself a little.

“Was he…” Thorin trailed off something inside of him stopped him before he could make the question that was burning in his mind. Instead he did something unexpected; he lifted Thranduil’s hand placing his warm lips on the Elf’s knuckles. “I’m sorry you have to find out about your…this elf dear to you. I’m sorry you were hurt today.”

Thranduil felt his cheeks warm up and he was glad the only light in the room was that of the moon coming from the window. The Elven-Prince felt the need to tell Thorin the truth, it was the least he could do after having been comforted by the Prince. Thranduil finished his tea mumbling his thanks to Thorin who took the cup from him placing it in the near bedside table. Thorin was about to stand up when Thranduil held his hand tightly, the Dwarven-Prince furrowed his brows shooting the Elf a questioning glance. Not for the first time did Thranduil wonder just how much Thorin knew about Elves; Thranduil remembered Dís telling him Thorin didn’t know much but…Thranduil shook his head, his heart already feeling lighter and warmer having the hand of the Dwarven-Prince grasping his tightly.

“He was my lover.” Thranduil spoke softly, his voice trembling at the end. Thorin clenched his jaw looking away; he distracted himself with one of the cookies filling the plate. “He was…my mate.”

Thorin was pretty sure whatever he was feeling was new. Never before he felt numb, his limbs heavy with a little difficulty in breathing. Thranduil had his eyes set upon the sword thus he never noticed the sudden changes in the Dwarven-Prince’s face. Their hands were still joined even if Thorin had lightened up his hold on the Elf’s hand.

“I’m sorry.” Thorin finally said trying to get a hold of his voice. “Is it…I mean, you say mate, does it…”

Thorin trailed off, he wanted to ask so many things. He wanted to know if his love for this elf was forever, if perhaps Thranduil had closed himself to the possibility of loving someone else. Or, if due to the differences between the races and Thranduil’s state, the Elven-Prince was off of limits for any emotional involvement.

“It is different for us, Thorin.” Thranduil tilted his head allowing Thorin to read the sadness and the hopelessness behind Thranduil’s expression. “We don’t love lightly, when we do, we do it forever.”

Thranduil caressed the hilt of Haldir’s sword, “He was the Marchwarden of Lórien, and he was born in a humble home in the Golden Forest. Our union would never be blessed by my father or by his people, we were too different.”

“Still, you love him.” Thorin couldn’t smile; he couldn’t even face Thranduil when he spoke in the present instead of the past. Thorin didn’t know what was worse: he fighting against the figure that was King Bard, he fighting the ghost of a past lover; or him giving in admitting what was inside his heart. In the end, Thráin was right, Thorin was an idiot.

Thranduil furrowed his brows he opened his mouth and then closed it again. He loved Haldir, he had loved him with everything he was and he was ready to give up his status as a Prince for him; yet when the both of them were confronted by Lady Galadriel and King Oropher uneasiness settled in Thranduil’s heart. Haldir had already started growing apart from him; they had started seeing the differences and the opposition of their people. A part of Thranduil still felt love for Haldir, it had hurt so much when Haldir had left without even looking back or when Thranduil received the letter from the Marchwarden asking for forgiveness, telling Thranduil he would fight for him to the very end. It was the, Thranduil decided to tell Haldir about the pregnancy. Two more letters gave Thranduil hope perhaps everyone was mistaken regarding the love between Haldir and Thranduil; then Haldir disappeared.

Thranduil had been devastated but, what really broke him and almost make him give up life was Haldir’s last letter. A letter that arrived with the news of the deaths of the group Haldir had been in; it was a letter in which Haldir had promised to do better and to be there by the time their son was born. It was a letter in which he promised Thranduil he would make sure the Elven-Prince would fall in love with him.  That they would be happy and show everyone what they had was real.

The letter had achieved only one thing, it made Thranduil blamed himself for Haldir’s distance, he blamed himself for the fact Haldir had tried to distance from the Elven-Prince believing he wasn’t in love with him.  It made Thranduil blamed himself for having allowed Legolas grow in a fatherless home.

“I loved him, with all I had.” Thranduil mumbled softly. “But…there was a time in which he was distancing himself from me. It was my fault, though, I was cold and I couldn’t…I didn’t know how to connect with him after my father and Lady Galadriel spoke with us.” Thranduil spoke softly. “He left giving me time to think and…then we found out about the attack.”

Thorin pursed his lips, he lifted a cookie with a strange form, there was only one thing clear and that was the name of Fíli written in runes. The Dwarven-Prince smiled at the cookie, his eyes moved from the cookie to Thranduil and he offered it to the Elven-Prince who took it sharing the same smile.

“I’m sorry about your lost.” Thorin said giving a soft smile to the Elf. “I’m sorry you never got the chance to be happy with him and I’m sorry you got stuck with me.”

Thranduil took the cookie, his blues eyes trying hard to read the expression Thorin was wearing at the moment but he found it almost impossible to do so. Thorin squeezed the hand of the Elf with a heavy burden crushing his heart.

“It is not so bad.” Thranduil offered a tentative smile to the Dwarf. “I’m starting to get use to you.”

Thorin chuckled but his laughter didn’t reach his eyes, Thranduil tilted his head refusing to let go of Thorin’s hand until the Dwarven-Prince cocked a brow at him.

“It is late and you must be tired still.” Thorin stood up, he was acting strangely. “You can stay in my room, if you want.”

“No, please, you have done so much. I cannot take your bed, I should return to Legolas.” Thranduil was getting ready to stand up but was stopped by Thorin moving closer, for a moment his blue eyes fell to the part lips of the Dwarf then up to those black, gleaming eyes.

“Stay, they know you are here. Whatever Captain Glorfindel told your brother it seemed to calm him, he threatened my virtue if I were to mistreat you or take advantage of you.” A this last part Thorin dropped his eyes to the lips of the Elf, his warm breath caressing the cold skin of Thranduil who found himself wanting nothing more than to lean in.

“You’re not that kind of man.” Thranduil whispered Thorin tensed shaking his head moving away.

“No, I’m not that kind of man, I’m a Dwarf.” Thorin placed the plate still containing food on the bedside table. “Please, stay the night. Rest, you…you need it. I will be in the other room if you need anything.”

Thorin didn’t wait for an answer, he left closing the door behind him resting his back against the door. He opened his eyes snarling at his reflection. He was such a fucking idiot. Shaking his head he made his way to his favourite sofa and without changing or anything he fell into a restless sleep.

Thranduil for his part was left behind, confused and heartbroken. He put the sword out of his sheath admiring the blade he had seen in the past, new tears appeared on his eyes at the only memory left of the Elf he had loved. The sword Haldir had name _Ithilmegil_ trying to be smart by telling Thranduil it was because his blade didn’t reflect the blood of his enemies but the hope held by the starlight reflecting on the blade.  Thranduil knew he wasn’t the owner of the sword, Haldir’s blade was never meant to be for him; if he had been alive and things had been different between them it would be Legolas the rightful heir of the sword.

A soft breeze slipped through the window brushing against the cold skin of the Elven-Prince, it wasn’t until that moment Thranduil missed the warm coming from Thorin. Thranduil looked around the room but he could hardly see beyond the four-posted bed or the slightly open window; it took him a moment to comprehend why he felt so cold and so alone, it wasn’t the fact Thorin wasn’t there with him, it almost felt as if the comfort coming from the Dwarven-Prince had been blocked.

Thranduil re-arranged his position on the bed, resting his head on the pillow Thorin would be using if he wasn’t on the bed.  A really huge bed for a Dwarf, Thranduil wondered if perhaps the bed had been shared at some point with any lover Thorin might had brought during his more feverish nights. The mere thought made Thranduil even sadder and colder, he turned to face the window his fingertips caressing the hilt of _Ithilmegil_ his eyes closing slightly shedding the last of his tears while his senses were filled with the scent that was purely Thorin.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

 

The following morning Thranduil found a single note from Thorin on the table. He couldn’t help but feel disappointed to find Thorin had left early in the morning. Cleaning up his face and grabbing Haldir’s sword, the Elven-Prince made his way back to his own rooms, the night away from everyone had worked to ease his soul even if there was still sadness filling up his heart.

By the time he reached his quarters Glorfindel was waiting for him in front of his room. The Captain of the guard gave Thranduil a quick glance before wrapping his arms around Thranduil. Thranduil returned the gesture, but there were no more tears from his part.

“I’m sorry, my friend.” Glorfindel whispered.

“I know.”

“Those bastards, they kept it all these years…” Glorfindel put Thranduil at arm’s length his grey eyes narrowing to see the sadness still present in the beautiful face. “How are you feeling now?”

Thranduil lowered his eyes to the sword, then back to Glorfindel, “I think there would always be sadness in my heart, Glorfindel. For him, for what could have been.”

Glorfindel pursed his lips, “I know you love him, Thranduil. I know you suffer a great deal when you lost him. But I have never thought he was your only chance at happiness.”

“Why are you so sure, Glorfindel?” Thranduil questioned the Captain smiled at him squeezing the arms of his friend lightly.

“Because, my friend, I have seen you then and I have seen you lately.” Glorfindel smiled cryptically at Thranduil. “You loved Haldir, but you never allowed your connection to him expand beyond the moments in which you would share his bed.”

Thranduil furrowed his brows ready to protest when Legolas called out to him, “Ada!”

“Go to him, he was worried about you. Think about what I just said, Thranduil.” Glorfindel walked away leaving Thranduil with Legolas alone.

“Ada! Are you well?” Legolas gave his father a once over pursing his lips. “Glorfindel and Thorin told me you weren’t feeling well. I was worried when you didn’t return yesterday.”

“I know, I’m sorry, Legolas.” Thranduil put a hand on the back of his son’s neck, he swallowed while taking in the soft features of his growing son.

Legolas shot his father a curious stare, “What is it?”

“I have something for you.”

Thranduil made sure they were inside the privacy of his room before he presented Legolas with the sword. The Elven-Prince grabbed the golden sheath offering the hilt to Legolas; the young Elf glanced at the weapon then at his father. With a tentative hand, Legolas wrapped his fingers around the hilt putting the blade out of its protective case. Legolas eyes opened appreciatively, the sword was still sharp gleaming under the lights of the fire and the candles in the room.

“It’s a blade made in the Golden Forest!” Legolas exclaimed recognizing the fine work and the metal worked in the way of the Elves. “It glows blue when orcs or goblins are near, and it has the colours of the forest. Ada, where did you get this? Why are you giving me this?”

Thranduil opened his mouth, then closed it again. Legolas eyed the blade before turning to his father who still held the case of the sword.

“Father?”

“The sword has a name.” Thranduil began. “It is called _Ithilmegil_ ; your father thought it was the perfect name. The blade that reflects moonlight.”

Legolas trembled almost dropping the sword in his hand, his blue eyes turned to the sword once again his heart shrank. He eyed the blade with respect and fondness; this was the first time he held in his hands something belonging to Haldir. Legolas turned to his father lowering the blade.

“It should be you, not me, the one holding the sword, father.” Legolas said with a trembling voice.

“No, Legolas, the sword came to me to bring me pain but…” Thranduil trailed off approaching his son while placing a hand on his shoulder. “But, last night I realized _Ithilmegil_ came to me for you. Nothing else was left of Haldir but this, it is yours Legolas. Wield it well and may it bring you to a better fate than its previous owner.”

“Thank you, Ada.” Legolas rested his face on his father’s shoulders. “Thank you.”

Thranduil was quite shocked when he found himself wrapped tightly around his son’s arms, he smiled sadly when Legolas whispered his thank you to him, when his son promised to wield it with honour and to make him and the memory of Haldir proud.  

“You already make me proud, Legolas.” Thranduil whispered knowing in his heart he had done the right thing. Thranduil knew whatever awaited Legolas, Ithilmegil would be there to protect him that was Haldir’s last act of love to both, Thranduil and Legolas.

Or at least, that’s what Thranduil liked to think.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Dís watched his brother for a long time while sharing the last cup of tea of the day.

The Dwarven-Queen was spending her last day in Erebor with Thorin while sharing the concerns concerning Erebor, Dol-Guldur and their father.  Their conversation had been long and exhausting, Dís would be leaving the next day with a heavy heart and the few advices she could pass onto her brother. There was something else she had been worried about, something Thorin had been evading quite skilfully.

Whatever had happened the day before with Thranduil, Thorin seemed to keep as a secret. Yet, his changing facial expressions were the proof Dís needed to know the Elven-Prince seemed to have a special place in her brother’s mind.

Dís raised her eyes glancing at Thorin who was now smiling softly, there was this particular gleam in his black eyes,  his features softened while he drink from his mug. The she-dwarf felt her lips imitating her brother’s smile; she knew the expression he was wearing for there was only one person who could bring such joy to Thorin.

“You know? It is good to know you are following my advice.” Dís said casually eyeing her brother, Thorin turned to her blinking away his confusion.

“What do you mean?”

Dís smirked glancing at his brother half-amusedly, half-contemplative, “You are giving Prince Thranduil a chance. I mean, I know yesterday something bad happen between him and father, but you seem ready to comfort him.”

Thorin stared at his sister for a long time, he stirred uncomfortably under her eyes cocking his head to the side while the happiness he felt moments ago remembering the Elven-Prince disappeared.  Dís could observe this change but she decided to not interrupt the moment of silence, she wanted to hear what Thorin had obviously kept to himself. The Dwarven-Prince lowered his mug wrapping his hands around the warm material furrowing his brows before speaking.

“There are not chances to give.” When Thorin spoke Dís could read sadness and bitterness behind her brother’s voice, Thorin snorted cracking a broken smile. “We fight, we get into these strange truces and then we fight again. Besides, he…his heart, his mind belong to another.”

Dís leaned back against her chair, stirring the dark liquid of her tea inside her favourite cup. Thorin wished he didn’t feel the way he was feeling, he wished to never have set his eyes on the Elven-Prince and to never have gave into him.  What had happened to their initial enmity? Why couldn’t he get back to feel annoyance at the Elven-Prince instead of whatever the hell he was feeling for the blasted elf?

“Wait a minute, brother of mine.” Dís leaned forward placing her hand on top of Thorin’s one, the Prince lifted his face to stare into the concern eyes of his sister. “You were smiling just moments ago, that smile Thorin…I’ve been here almost a month now, I know you, Thorin, and I know you pretty well…”

Dís didn’t need to say anything else for Thorin understood what she meant. He chuckled drinking some of his tea while shaking his head; he grabbed Dís hands in his squeezing lightly.

“Nothing gets past you, uh?” Thorin sighed shrugging.

“You know I’m always looking out for you, more so after…” Dís gulped. “After grandfather, Frerin and mother died.”

Thorin knew Dís had tried, he knew she was always trying to be there but Thorin had never blamed her when she fell in love and became the Queen of Ered Luin. He never blamed her for leaving him in Erebor with a father who despised him and was becoming mad little by little, he knew Dís would always be there for him, like she was right now.

“Tell me, Thorin, what got you smiling so _emotionally_ moments ago to just be so bitter all of a sudden?”

“I’m a fool.” Thorin said simply, he didn’t say anything else for the look of realisation in his sister’s face was all he needed to know Dís understood his words.

“Thorin…” Dís started trading carefully before speaking for she knew Thorin was already feeling too much without even meaning to. “You are not a fool. If you asked me, you two have so many possibilities to be happy. You just have to stop thinking this isn’t going to work and give yourself a chance to…”

Thorin stopped his sister before she could say anything else; he shook his head trying to get the words out of his mind. It was enough with the tormenting thoughts, the burning in his chest, the desire to just see _him_ smile. He could not take it anymore, he could not make it real, and he would not make it real by saying _anything_ out loud. He had banned the word love from his vocabulary after the day of the snowstorm and the moment he shared with Thranduil in his cottage.

“I really hope you don’t believe me a fool, Dís.” Thorin couldn’t’ help sounding a little cold when he said this, he lowered his stare before continuing. “Nothing is bound to happen between us. This has been decided a long time ago, I won’t be tied to him by an engagement force on us. He certainly isn’t even in the slightest interested in getting near me.”

Dís rolled her eyes, but she felt worried at how defeated her brother sounded.

“Thorin, you don’t know if this isn’t going to work.” Dís bit her lower lip speaking reluctantly. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you…”

Thorin laughed bitterly shaking his head, he shot his sister a cheerless stare.

“Please, Dís, do not insult my intelligence.” The she-dwarf blinked confusedly when Thorin leaned closer to her. “You really believe I didn’t notice what happen the day of the Winter Festival? That I didn’t notice what King Bard and Prince Thranduil were getting into?”

Dís opened her eyes slightly, Thorin gave her a half-smiled shaking his head.

“No, Dís…I’m not fool. I know what happened that day, I know now why King Bard was staring me with such animosity behind his eyes.” Thorin clenched his fist feeling tears prickling in his eyes. He hated it, he hated this weakness in him, he hated feeling so helpless while thinking about Bard and Thranduil.

Why did it bother him so much? He had asked himself this question ever since he interrupted that day in the balcony, ever since King Bard kept glaring at him. And he asked it again after finding out about Thranduil’s love for a dead elf.  Thorin wondered just why it bothered him until he realized while he was Prince Under the Mountain, he would never held the same height, or the same strong features of the man or even the former Elven lover; whereas Thorin was Prince, Bard was King.

“I do not know what was going on between them.” Dís started with honesty, she squeezed Thorin’s hand smiling gently at him. “This is something you will have to ask Prince Thranduil; but Thorin, that day Thranduil wasn’t being very welcomed of the King.”

Dís could see the gleam of hope in her brother’s eyes but, as soon as it came, it disappeared. She was so tempted to hit him in the head, to make him realize this could be a great chance for him. However, she knew there was just so much she could do, there were things he needed to realized on his own and she just could hope he would do so on time.

“Thorin, you are of the Line of Durin, you don’t give up so easily.” Dís winked at his brother. “Be careful, but do not deny yourself happiness just because you believe you are not enough.”

Thorin chuckled standing up before wrapping his arms around his sister; she certainly knew him so well. He didn’t make any promises but let his sister know he would try, he would try for her and even for his friends who all seemed to think the same as his sister. He would not, however, make himself any more vulnerable that he already was, he had seen his mother…he had seen what she suffered under the pain of unrequired affection.

Even as he thought this, a part of Thorin knew it was already too late for him. Thorin was already too far in love with Thranduil to do anything else but ran from the Elven-prince.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there and Merry Christmas!   
> I know it's a little early but I don't think I will have the chance to say this in the next couple of days so, yeah.  
> First of all I want to thank you guys for the comments, the kudos, the bookmarks and reading the story in general. I really do want to thank you because I know it must be difficult over all with English not being my mother tongue and the story not being beta-ed yet. I really wanna apologize for the grammar, spelling and other mistakes you find out there and I do seriously hope you enjoy the story. 
> 
> If you wanna help with this don't hesitate to say so, I would appreciate the help. This chapter means to be the beginning of Thranduil and Thorin getting closer without meaning to and of the troubles ahead.
> 
> next chapter Bard is back and he is not ready to give up, Legolas is hurt and trouble stirs in the City of Khand.


	8. The heart of a dwarf, the perceptiveness of the elf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin is feeling insecure, Thranduil is trying to live in denial, Bard is starting to see what Thranduil can't and Legolas already knows what's going on. However, danger and darkness is growing in their lands and Legolas is the first victim of the growing darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you guys! I really, really do! i want to thank to every single one of you for the comments, the kudos, the bookmarks and for reading the story even though English is not my mother tongue. I really appreciate every single one of your comments and the fact you read the story.
> 
> Well, this chapter turned out to be way too long so I have to divide it into two parts, this is part one and I'm already working on finishing part two. However, tomorrow or today I've been leaving for my New Year's holidays so I won't be able to update the story until next week. I hope you like this chapter and I really want to hear your opinion

**Chapter 8**

**The heart of a dwarf, the perceptiveness of the elf**

**Part 1**

While the days were still cold and the ground was still decorated with white, a strange invitation reached the Prince of Erebor and his soon to be husband Prince Thranduil of the Woodland Realm. The invitation, for a hunting trip, was welcomed with surprise by some and wariness by others. The situation in Middle Earth and more importantly in the region of Rhovanion was becoming dangerous as the winter died and the spring approached, still this invitation from the King of Esgaroth was received as an opportunity for Erebor to straighten their ties with the Kingdom of Men and, at the same time, to share face to face the concerns involving Dol-Guldur. King Thráin seemed eager to accept this invitation and send his son away, even if he seemed rather reluctant to allow Prince Thranduil leave his Halls to go so near the Woodland Realm. Nevertheless, two days after receiving the messenger bird Thorin sent his acceptance and parted with only his company of faithful friends along with Legolas and Captain Glorfindel to accompany Thranduil.

The trip last three days and they stopped right on the path leading to the Long Lake and the Kingdom of Esgaroth; however, their journey ended at the outskirts of the Long Forest where the hunting would take place. Thorin had ordered the camp to be set up while they waited for the King of Esgaroth to arrive with his men and his son who Thorin remembered to have invited a long time ago to something similar. While everyone was setting up the camp, Legolas and Thranduil approached the trees and the bushes near the entrance of the forest, both Elves were quite fascinated by it their hands brushing lightly the trunks and the leaves while their keen eyes looked inside the darkened woods.

Thorin had been resting his back against one of the trees, he wasn’t looking to the camp nor inside the forest; he was rather fascinated with something on the ground while dark thoughts grow inside his mind. It had been this way since they received the invitation and they left the mountain to join King Bard.  The Dwarven-Prince was no fool, he knew this invitation was something else, something involving the Elf now standing a few centimetres away from him. Thorin knew Bard had second intentions with this sudden invitation, and the dwarf was torn between jealousy and inadequacy. Thorin sensed Thranduil approaching him slowly, out of the corner of his eyes he saw as the face of the elf reflected a soft light while his lips curled up in a content smile while admiring the forest; Thorin softened slightly his heart beating fast while his stomach fluttered pleasantly at the closeness of the elf. Then, he remembered Bard would soon arrive and Thranduil would probably be distracted by the blast man. Thorin furrowed his brows crossing his arms while looking at the ground sulking in silence.

Prince Thranduil from his part was rather contemplative, ever since he had broken down in front of Thorin and had revealed such a private part of his life to the dwarf, Thranduil felt closer to Thorin than he had ever felt to anyone before him. Thorin hadn’t mocked his feelings, on the contrary, the Dwarven-Prince had understood, he had offered his shoulder to cry on without asking questions and even when he did ask he wasn’t pushy.  Thranduil was grateful with Thorin, his feelings shifting to something affectionate towards the Prince.  Nevertheless, Thranduil did notice something and that was the sudden estrangement between them. Thorin sometimes would be open, amusing, he would argue with all he was against Thranduil, like they had come to do out of habit; there were times in which Thorin would behave endearing and rather gently towards Thranduil, always attentive as if perceiving what he needed even before Thranduil himself knew it. However, some other times he would be distant, cold and serious, and even sorrowful something Thranduil find it impossible to associate with the Thorin he had come to know.

“As of late, you seem to be in a sour mood.” Thranduil finally spoke standing close to Thorin while his blue eyes looked ahead into the forest. Thorin tensed glancing up then down pursing his lips like a petulant child, this brought some amusement to the elf who soon was also concerned sitting down to make sure Thorin was facing him.

“May I inquire why you have been so _moody_ as of late? Is it something I did?”

The question caught Thorin by surprise he lowered his arms turning to face Thranduil, ever since they had shared that private moment in Thorin’s room Thranduil was looking more open towards the dwarf. Right now, his eyes were gleaming with wonderment and wariness; he really was concerned if perhaps he had done something wrong to upset Thorin.  For a moment Thorin felt bad, it wasn’t his intention to hurt or even make Thranduil feel he owed something to Thorin. The Dwarven-Prince’s mood was more due to his doubts than anything to do with Thranduil himself. If there was someone they could blame pliantly was Bard for his invitation with second intentions and Thorin himself for not daring to do something regarding his own feelings for the elf.

“I’m not in a bad mood.” Thorin grumbled scowling; his actions only brought mild amusement to the elf’s eyes Thranduil tilted his head looking back into the forest.

“Imagine if you were in a good mood.” Thranduil said wryly. “You wouldn’t be frowning like this…”

“What is it to you, anyway?” Thorin replied shooting a quick glance to the elf.

Thranduil opened his mouth to speak but soon close it again; the question was a valid one, why did he care if Thorin was in such a bad mood or not? The Elven-Prince turned to Thorin again shrugging, his hair falling around his shoulders.

“I thought we were friends.” Thranduil stood up suddenly feeling foolish, slightly hurt. “I was wrong, apparently…”

Thranduil was about to leave when a rough hand wrapped itself around his wrist, he felt a tingling sensation traveling up his arm to his chest and taking home in his abdomen. Thranduil furrowed his brows looking at the hand then back at Thorin whose eyes were begging silently.

“Sorry.” Thorin mumbled hesitating before letting go of Thranduil. “I’m just…”

Thorin trailed off not knowing how to explain to the Elf he was slightly jealous this stupid hunting trip would be a chance for King Bard to be reunited with Thranduil. Thorin didn’t know how to explain to Thranduil he was such an idiot he allowed himself to feel something more than simple friendship to the elf who was still in love with a ghost while sleeping around with a King.

“I’m just missing Dís.” Thorin finally said and Thranduil didn’t understand his sudden disappointment or the shivering of his heart. “And Fíli, and with all the bad news we have received recently I’m just stressed.”

Thranduil regarded Thorin with care; he inclined his head while placing his hand on Throin’s shoulder squeezing lightly.

“I understand.” Thranduil offered a half smile to the dwarf. “I believe I also miss your sister and Fíli. He is quite an amazing child.”

Thorin smiled nodding, “He is and he seems rather enamoured with Prince Legolas.”

“Oh, I know, I heard about the marriage proposal.” Thranduil replied smirking.  Right before he left and after learning his uncle was to marry Thranduil, Fíli decided he would also marry someone as pretty as Thranduil thus he decided Legolas was the right person for him.

Legolas had found this rather adorable accepting the gift Fíli had crafted for him while the little dwarf promised to come back for him and marry him. Thranduil had stared at his son who was aware of all the present’s eyes on him; Legolas had not say much to Fíli but returned the hug and place a friendly kiss on the child’s forehead just before he left.

Thorin chuckled shaking his head, “Fíli is quite the spoil Prince, so don’t be surprised if you and your received pretty soon a letter with his handwriting asking about this marriage proposal once he learns the proper way to do it.”

Thranduil smiled but say nothing else instead he went back to his spot right beside Thorin, the noise coming from the camp filled the silence that fell between them. Thorin lowered his black eyes to Thranduil who was suddenly contemplating the forest; the elf had softened his features while his lips curled up in one of those real, happy smiles Thorin had come to appreciate so much.

“Do you like the forest?”

Thranduil nodded briefly resting his back against the tree, “It’s beautiful. Even in winter there is something alive in here, it feels older but also moving in time with the rest of the land around it. Even from here I can see the rabbits, the squirrels and the birds moving inside the woods.”

Thorin squinted his eyes while facing the forest, he furrowed his brows tilting his head but failing to see the same things Thranduil was observing.

“How can you tell?”

“Elves have keen eyes, Thorin. Nothing escapes my eyes.” Thranduil spoke with a hint of teasing in his voice, Thorin turned to the elf snorting.

“Please, I can tell you all the things that had escaped your eyes with both my hands.” Thorin regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth, Thranduil shot him a curious glance but the elf merely nodded at him. “Sorry, I just…”

Thranduil offered Thorin a strained smile shaking his head, “You don’t need to say anything.”

The wind moved around them, cold and bitter while they went back to the silent contemplation of the forest. Thorin shifted angrily at his own incapacity to express his feelings to do something to probably reach out to Thranduil. The Dwarven-Prince shifted on his spot sitting down right beside Thranduil while playing with a ring on his hand.

“There is a waterfall deep inside the forest.” Thorin started. “The water is clear reflecting the sky and the light of the moon lighting up that part of the forest.”

Thranduil shot him a curious glance hearing as Thorin spoke with memory in his words, the Dwarven-Prince smiled at him arching an eyebrow.

“If you’re not too afraid or too attached to our company, we can sneak around and go over there.” Thorin shrugged feeling the tip of his ears burn when the heavy stare of a puzzle Elven-Prince fell on him.

Thranduil smiled shyly looking away as soon as Thorin turned to face him, “That sounds agreeable.  I will hold you to that, Prince Thorin.”

Thorin rewarded Thranduil with a content grin; everything was getting back to normal when Bilbo and Glorfindel appeared from the side. Both Princes turned to the newcomers, Thranduil raised his eyebrows when Bilbo shot him a serious glance before speaking.

“King Bard is here.” The hobbit said still looking at Thranduil who suddenly understood the seriousness in the otherwise calm Bilbo.

Thranduil felt a bottomless pit in his stomach; anxiousness filled his heart at seeing Bard again. Last time their meeting had been a mess and ever since they got the invitation Thranduil feared another confrontation like the one before, he feared Bard would not give up and he knew he would have to be strong this time. Thorin tensed suddenly his face changed into a blank façade standing up and walking away without a word. Thranduil lifted his eyes to Thorin furrowing his brows in confusion when he realized Bilbo and Glorfindel were still with him.

“I trust you won’t hurt him, and I trust you won’t let King Bard do anything foolish.” Bilbo lifted his chin before turning away. Prince or not, no one messed with his friends much less Thorin.

Thranduil swallowed sharing a glance with Glorfindel, the moment of peace he had shared with Thorin was soon forgotten and Thranduil felt the tension building up inside of him. Suddenly, Thorin stopped he tilted his head to look back at Thranduil, black eyes soon locked with blue ones, Thranduil wished he knew what was bothering Thorin, why the sudden change. Something flashed inside the Elven-Prince’s mind: perhaps Thorin was jealous of Bard. Thranduil shook his head dismissing such an absurd and ridiculous notion for two reasons: first, because for this Thorin harboured feelings towards the elf, something Thranduil found difficult to believe; second, because it would mean Thorin knew of his past affair with King Bard. As far as Thranduil knew, his affair was kept a secret and Thorin’s affections…well; they were only friends, right?

“Are you coming, _dear?_ Or have you frozen your behind while sitting there with me?” Thorin was looking serious but there was a glint of teasing dancing in his eyes.

Thranduil felt relief wash over him, he snorted making his way to stand beside Thorin, “As if, Dwarf. Please, do keep up.”

And saying this, Thranduil started walking faster with Thorin grunting trying to follow his long strides.

*****

King Bard watched the Dwarven camp in the distance, his heart was hammering fast against his ribcage as he approached it. To his side Bain was looking just as anxious as his father; even the young Prince was doing it for different reasons. This would be the first time Bard would see Thranduil after the fiasco on the Winter Festival; Bard had come to peace to what happened that day, but he was also certain he wouldn’t give up, not when there was a chance to show Thranduil he was loved.

The King and his men arrived at the camp, the dwarves all exited their tents bowing respectfully at the King and his son while helping the men around. King Bard greeted them with a bow asking for the Prince of Erebor and the Prince of Mirkwood. Bard’s eyes soon found the form of the young elf he had seen around Thranduil last time, the man furrowed his brows bowing his head at the elf.

“King Bard, it is a pleasure to finally meet you.” The young elf said approaching him, Legolas placed his hand on his chest greeting the King at the style of the elves. “I’m Prince Legolas, younger brother of Prince Thranduil.”

“Bother?” Bard approached the Prince returning the gesture; his eyes examining Legolas finding the similarities between the both of them. “I didn’t know Prince Thranduil had a younger brother.”

“Well, there are a lot of things you don’t know about the Elven-Prince.” Thorin spoke making his way to the camp with Thranduil walking beside him, Bard turned to the dwarf lifting an eyebrow while shooting an icy stare at Thorin.

“Indeed.” King Bard then turned to Thranduil, his features softening slightly. “Prince Thorin, Prince Thranduil, I apologize for my tardiness.”

Bard approached both Princes his eyes lingering on Thranduil, “It is, however, a pleasure to meet with you again.”

Thranduil tensed when the King’s eyes didn’t even waver while looking at him, Thorin shifted clenching his fists while stepping forward blocking the eyes of the King. Bard looked down feeling the same cold anger he felt all those weeks ago towards the Dwarven-Prince.

“I believe, King Bard, the pleasure is all ours. The tardiness can be forgiven if you accompanied us to an early dinner, we can speak inside my tent that is already arranged and then, tomorrow we can start the hunting.”

Thorin indicated with a gesture of his hands and eyebrows the blue tent to his right, Bard nodded letting Thorin stepped forward while he faced the Elven-Prince. Thranduil stared into Bard’s eyes feeling a sudden tremor at the intensity behind the King’s eyes.

“It is good to see you again, your Majesty. I hope the trip was agreeable.” Thranduil finally spoke, his voice cordial with only a hint of warm in it.

“It was. Thank you for asking and thank you for coming along, I didn’t…I didn’t think you will agree to this.” Bard smiled at the elf wanting to say something more; Thranduil shook his head moving past Bard to join Thorin who was already inside his tent.

Glorfindel glared at the King who suddenly was aware of the curious stares coming from Bilbo, Legolas and some other dwarves.  The King straightened up turning around to join Thranduil and Thorin trying to calm his stormy thoughts and uneasiness.

King Bard sat at the left side of Thorin with Thranduil sitting right in front of him, soon the improvised table with only cushions as chairs was filled with Glorfindel, Legolas, Bain, Bilbo and ten more dwarves all of them talking, laughing and breaking the tension between King Bard and Thorin.

Bain was slightly amazed by the vibrant energy at the table; he was looking around with his eyes wide open in wonderment, his lips curling up in amusement as he too shared some of the conversation with Dori and Gloin that were sitting to his side. Bard eyed his son for a moment and then turned to Thranduil who was speaking softly with Legolas, the King narrowed his eyes slightly watching the interaction between the two brothers wondering why Thranduil had never mentioned a younger brother, if he were to think more clearly about the situation, Bard would have realized there was little to nothing he knew about the elf.

“So, it’s there a reason why you have invited us to this hunting trip?” Thorin spoke softly making sure Bard could hear him above the ruckus his company was making. “We both know this isn’t your favourite pastime.”

Bard lifted his eyes almost smiling when he realized Thranduil had been looking at him, “Aye, it is more than killing animals for fun. We’ve been having some troubles with a pack of wargs.”

Bard grabbed some of the bread while turning to Thorin, the dwarf was furrowing his brows while shooting a calculating stare at Bard.

“We are not your hunters, King Bard. If you cannot control a pest like some wargs then don’t expect me and my people to clean up your mess.” Thorin grumbled rather annoyed at the implication behind Bard’s comment.

Thranduil tensed his blue eyes moving to Thorin then back to Bard who faced him with a softening behind those dark eyes. Legolas glanced the interaction shifting uncomfortably at the strange attention King Bard had been paying his father from the moment he arrived.

“I apologized, Prince Thorin, if my words were understood in such a way.” Bard spoke politely though his voice was hard as steel. “I thought we have an alliance to work through these things, I called upon you and Prince Thranduil because this was not a normal attack, and I am very worried about my people and my Kingdom.”

Thorin snorted tilting his head at Bard, “And our help you will get, of course. But, explain to me, what’s going on?”

“How long has it been?” Thranduil suddenly spoke occupying himself with the food on his plate.

Bard lifted his eyes shooting Thranduil a quick glance, “Since the Winter Festival.”

Thorin shifted lowering his gaze to his food rather uncomfortable at path the conversation had taken, he looked at Thranduil out of the corner of his eyes to see the Elven-Prince flustered but annoyed.

“What do you mean?” Thranduil spoke coldly. “It is imperative of you to be clear, King Bard, for there is something of utter urgency we need to speak of with you as well. That it is the reason why we agreed to this trip.”

“The only reason?” Bard questioned lifting his eyebrows, his tone daring while his eyes glanced pleadingly at Thranduil.

“Yes, it is the only reason.” It was Legolas who answered he furrowed his brows glancing from Bard to his father then to Thorin.  “That and of course, my friends over here think they are better arches than me and my brother which it’s not true and I have come to win our little bet.”

Thranduil turned to his son wondering since when had Legolas become such a good friend with the Dwarves, but already knowing the answer. It was so much easier for Legolas to forge friendship ties with them; not sooner had he said this, all the dwarves had jumped in to refute the elf’s words. Legolas smirked winking at Bilbo before Bain chimed in rather shyly.

“Da is an excellent archer; the best there is in Dale.” All eyes turned to Bain who soon felt his cheeks burn as he shot his father a quick glance.

“Is that true?” Legolas questioned eyeing the man with scepticism.

“Well, yes. The bow and the arrow are my weapons of choice; I thought Prince Thranduil may have mentioned this as he had seen up close my abilities.” King Bard smiled at his own comment; Legolas shook his head sensing something was very strange with the sudden tension in the tent.

“No, your Majesty, he never mentioned it and, with all due respect, I’m not surprised there is only one other archer my brother would mention and that’s either me or…Haldir.” Legolas said hesitating at the end of his talk.

Thorin turned to Thranduil finding the Elven-Prince facing the food while taking a long sip from his goblet filled with wine. The Dwarven-Prince shifted his hand until his fingertips brushed the side of Thranduil’s hand; the elf offered a shaky smile at Thorin a silent thank you behind the blue eyes of the elf.

“I see, then I believe I can enter this bet, if you are agreeable to the idea. Perhaps we can see if Elves, Men or Dwarves are better with the arrow.” King Bard commented facing Thorin and Thranduil, his eyes flashed annoyingly when he caught the subtly movements from Thorin’s hand against Thranduil’s one.

Soon the dinner dwell deep into what they were expected to find the next day, with a gesture of his hand Bard encouraged his son to speak of the specifics of the mission and what had bothered the King of Esgaroth as of late. Everyone went silent and, not for the first time, King Bard was quite surprised at the seriousness of the dwarves when moments ago all of them were laughing and joking around.

“There have been some sightings and attacks; we lost a few men who were sent to escort the area.” Bain spoke with a trembling voice but rather knowledgeable of the events. “The people who live outside the wall have been worried because they have heard the howls and four days ago they received the first attack.”

“Wargs had gone to all the trouble to attack the outskirts of the city?” Dwalin asked frowning; Bard nodded gravelly drinking some wine before taking the lead in the conversation.

“It’s not the only thing we’re worried about. The Long Forest had been a good place to gather some wood and lead the caravans to the river up to the Iron Hills and down beyond the lands of Rhun.”

“I believe this is the right time to inform you of what happened in Erebor a few weeks ago.” Thorin commented gravelly, he lowered his hand to his side engrossed with what was being discussed he almost jumped when a long, warm hand closed tightly around his.

The Dwarven-Prince didn’t visible react even though his heart was beating rather fast and he wanted nothing more than to ask Thranduil what he was trying to do. When Thorin lifted his eyes to face Bard he realized with a jolt of joy it was him and not the King who was holding the elf’s hand.

“What is it? What happened?” Bard questioned trying to ignore the closeness between Thorin and Thranduil.

Thorin soon explained the visit from the messenger of Dol-Guldur, he spoke of the gifts and the strange news they had received from the Iron Hills, the land of Khand and what Glorfindel and Thranduil could contribute with their knowledge of the Misty Mountains and the Fortress itself. Bard wore a concern expression whatever jealousy he felt towards the dwarf was forgotten for the moment in favour to the situation at hand.

“These are worrisome news, indeed.” Bard massaged his chin crossing his arms. “I knew this pack of wargs was trouble but if what you’re saying is true then this may turn out to be worse. I believe we should leave early in the morning and start our hunting with caution.”

“We could also be pretty alert as to what else can be discovered.” Thranduil spoke softly. “If we are to go out early in the morning then I suggest we rest. The night is already old and it would not do any good if we are tired.”

“Prince Thranduil is right; I believe is time for us to go to rest.” Bard agreed standing up while thanking Thorin for his hospitality. Everyone soon joined in with Bard standing up and saying their good nights while also distributing the times for the night watch.

Thranduil stopped dead on his tracks tilting his head to see Bard lingering in the shadows watching him timidly, the Elven-Prince asked Legolas to go inside the tent promising to join him soon after. Thranduil approached Bard the King looked around before leaning in, his hand brushing a strand of blond hair from Thranduil’s face.

“You look rather astonishing tonight.”

“Bard, please, stop it.” Thranduil grabbed the hand of the King before he could reach the tip of his ears; Bard’s face fell in disappointment taking a step back.

“I take it you are still maintaining your position from the Winter Festival.” Bard couldn’t speak without letting his hurt be heard through the tone of his voice.

Thranduil looked around aware of how alone yet how surrounded they were, the Elven-Prince turned slightly taking a step back.

“You already know the answer to that question, King Bard. Please, let us share this time as friends and allies without doing things we may regret.”

“I will never regret showing you how much I love you.” Bard said before he turned around leaving Thranduil standing in the dark.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

“You and I will have a long conversation about not doing stupid things.”

Thranduil was annoyed; he was rather angered at how stupid Thorin had behaved all morning. The Dwarven-Prince grunted and grumbled but didn’t dare to argue back for Thranduil had really been furious after Thorin had come close to his death while attacking a wild boar without a plan. The animal had come at him with a speed Thorin didn’t thought possible with all the snow covering the ground, but the boar had caught the Prince by surprised effectively piercing the side of his abdomen with a straighten horn.  Now he was resting against a trunk with Thranduil shooting daggers at him while treating his wounds; Thorin could be annoyed himself because he was being treated like a young dwarfling but the envious stare coming from Bard was well-worth the treatment.  Besides, Thranduil was really tending to his wounds with soft brushes of his fingertips and a concern look on his face, he was being so attentive and caring Thorin couldn’t help but enjoy the attention.

“I don’t think I would like this conversation at all.” Thorin grumbled almost hissing when Thranduil pressed on the wound.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Prince Thorin, did that hurt?” Thranduil said through gritted teeth.

“N-no.” Thorin replied stubbornly.

“Of all the stupid things I have seen you do since I meet you.” Thranduil started suddenly stopping himself from continuing his line of thought. Thranduil would never admit out loud, or even to himself, how worried he was. He would never admitted he almost stop breathing when he saw the blood or Thorin staggering back before falling to the ground. Thranduil had felt something inside him break but the implications of these emotions were too much for the Elven-Prince to think at the moment.

Thorin placed a hand on top of Thranduil’s bloodied one, he offered the Elf a shaky smile.

“You worry too much, elf. I’m not that hurt.”

“I worry enough, dwarf. You are still bleeding.”

Thorin rolled his eyes trying to stand up wincing at the shot of pain traveling up and down his body; he was stopped by the firm hand of the Elven-Prince who rolled his eyes this time around.

“Do I have to pin you down to the ground for you to stay still?” Thranduil commented rather annoyed.

“Is that an invitation or a promise?” Thorin couldn’t help the cheeky comment accompanied with a half-smirk and a wiggle of his eyebrows. Time stood still as everyone around them shifted uncomfortably at the innuendo behind Thorin’s comment, the Dwarven-Prince enjoyed the red colouring on the elf’s pointy ears and the sudden intake of breath coming from Thranduil.

He would have dared to turn and see the jealousy gleaming behind Bard’s eyes but was too preoccupied with the intense stare he was receiving from Thranduil. Thranduil opened his mouth but then closed it again not knowing how to respond to such a comment, he shook his head cleaning up the wound before patching it up.

“Next time you scare me like this…” Thranduil said softly only for Thorin to hear him. “I will make it a promise.”

This time around it was Thorin the one blushing, the Dwarven-Prince straightened up trying not to grimace too much while his face broke into a big, goofy grin.

“Were you scared? About me? My well-being? Why?”  Thorin made question after question wrapping his hand around the elf’s wrist, Thranduil sighed contemplating Thorin for a long time watching the blood on his hands then at the dwarf that was recovering his colours little by little.

Thranduil could say a lot of things, there were several answers to these questions and all equally valid. Still, something inside stirred, something Thranduil was not familiar with and that made him want to protect Thorin. The elf offered a single smile to Thorin shrugging.

“I wish I knew.”

They stared at each other for a brief moment before Bard cleared his throat; the man was tensed looking everywhere but at the Princes who were too close making him shifted in annoyance and sadness. Thranduil straightened up but didn’t make any attempt to remove the hand of the dwarf while he turned apologetic towards Bard.

“Prince Thorin should go back to the camp while we continue.” Bard spoke clearly, his tone of voice rather cold. “The tracks of this pack of wargs is leading as to the northeast of the forest, there are some large trees we can use to better gain a glance of this part of the forest.”

“There is no need for me to go back, King Bard. The wound is not that important, I can still fight and I can keep up.”

Bard looked sceptical at the dwarf looking him up and down while his eyes set on the bleeding wound on his side.

“Your insistence is admirable, but I don’t think it is wise for you to continue.” Bard pressed on, the man then turned to Thranduil raising his eyebrows. “Don’t you think I am right, Prince Thranduil?”

Thranduil tensed at the question when a pair of black eyes turned to him waiting for an answer, the Elven-Prince glanced at the wound still bleeding at Thorin’s side. Thranduil knew the wound was not deep and Thorin wasn’t in any immediate danger, but he also knew how reckless the Dwarven-Prince was from time to time. Thorin turned around rather annoyed when he saw the glimpse of doubt in the blue eyes of the Elven-Prince, crossing his arms Thorin pursed his lips only to be pleasantly surprised by Thranduil.

“He can fight and he can keep up. You have yet to learn of the stubbornness of dwarves, King Bard.” Thranduil faced the man his features soft seeking comprehension behind the black eyes of Bard. “However, if something were to happen, I would make myself responsible for him.”

Bard clenched his jaw while his heart broke slightly; he nodded briefly turning around and leaving both Princes behind. Legolas narrowed his eyes at the interaction, he looked around noticing only Bilbo and Glorfindel seemed rather attentive at how the Princes and the King communicated with one another. The young Elven-Prince mused over what he had seen lately and even what he noticed back in the Winter Festival, Legolas could tell how tense his father was Thranduil’s features showed nothing but his eyes were speaking volumes.  He felt uncomfortable, his instinct stirring wildly at the sight of his father’s discomfort coming from the closeness Bard seemed to seek. Legolas stirred wanting to go over there to stop the strange stares coming from the man but his instincts were soon soothed when Thorin claimed his father’s attention.

“Calm yourself down, Legolas.” Glorfindel leaned in towards his student, his eyes narrowing at the young Elf.

“I’m sorry, Master, but I just…” Legolas trailed off he crossed his arms eyeing Glorfindel while nodding towards his father.  “Are you going to tell me what is going on?”

Glorfindel regarded his student for a moment thinking how to answer such a question. He knew Legolas had picked up on the strange behaviour from Thranduil and the sudden fight of wills between Thorin and Bard.  The Captain of the guard knew sooner or later Legolas would find out about everything, but he thought it better for Thranduil to be the one telling this to his son.

“It is complicated, Legolas.” Glorfindel gave the young elf a half-smile when Legolas rolled his eyes. “You will have to ask more about this to your father; for now, I can only tell you Thranduil seems to be the focus of King Bard and Prince Thorin’s attentions.”

“Yes, I already noticed that.” Legolas shook his head. “I get why Prince Thorin is doing it, I mean, he has been doing it for quite some time, but King Bard? Hn, the man doesn’t stand a chance with Ada.”

“Why are you so sure?” Glorfindel couldn’t help but ask at the certainty behind his student’s voice.

Legolas furrowed his brows blinking confusedly at his master, as if it was something the Captain should have noticed before.

“I thought you knew.” Suddenly Legolas smirked smugly. “It seems, Master Glorfindel, I know something you don’t.”

Legolas started walking away from Glorfindel who shoot him a dry stare, “I’m sorry Master but, this is something you should wait for, if you haven’t noticed it yet then that means you will sooner or later. It is not my place to reveal Ada’s secrets.”

Glorfindel watched his student walking away smugly; Legolas was looking so much like his father Glorfindel couldn’t help but chuckle softly. Whatever Legolas found out seemed to be pretty important and, while Glorfindel knew he should just wait for Legolas to tell him, he decided it wouldn’t harm anyone if he were to seek that which brought such strong reactions from Legolas against Bard.

*****

As the afternoon progress, the hunters were getting closer to even more clues regarding the pack of wargs. Bard and Thorin were completely involved in a strange quarrel where Thranduil seemed to be the main topic, the Elven-Prince felt slightly irritated with both monarchs especially for the way they kept trying to get to him while completely ignoring the Elven-Prince. One meaningful stare from Bilbo and Glorfindel and Thranduil knew he needed to have a long talk with King Bard or else this could turn out to be pretty dangerous; Bain had been the one debriefing everyone on what they heard about the pack and the potential danger these creatures pose. The young Prince was a fast learner and was showing just how well educated in the arts of protecting his Kingdom he was.

Legolas was walking beside Thorin, his eyes gleaming with happiness as he looked around the forest taking in every detail while enjoying the atmosphere in the forest. Thorin tilted his head, his own lips curling up in a content smile when he found the look of pure bliss on Legolas.

“You know you look like your brother right now.” Thorin commented lightly, Legolas looked down his grin growing bigger.

“We love the forest. This place feels homey, it is vibrant, the trees are whispering to one another.” Legolas close his eyes surprising Thorin with how childish he looked. “I haven’t been out that much, but I already can tell this forest is one of my favourite places in the whole world.”

Thorin snickered shaking his head, “You elves are really weird. I won’t say this isn’t a nice place but, whispering trees? Nothing surpasses the beauty of a mine, or the inside of a mountain.”

“You are the weird ones!” Legolas exclaimed playfully. “Although, I got to admit Erebor is beautiful, but I don’t think I have seen the mines yet. I mean…have I?”

“No, you have only seen the great halls worked for the people to inhabit; the mines are a sight to behold, though.” Thorin mused over caressing his beard. “I can’t believe I haven’t showed the mines to you or Prince Thranduil, remind me of this as soon as we’re back in Erebor, I will take you to see real beauty.”

“Deal, as long as you promise to come with me to show you the Woodland Realm and, if we are lucky, the Golden Forest.” At this Legolas placed his hand on top of the hilt of his sword, this was the first time Thorin realized the sword given to Thranduil had been accompanying Legolas all this time.

Thorin furrowed his brows, his eyes gleaming inquiringly before he turned his attention back to Legolas.

“It is a deal, then, Prince Legolas.” Thorin turned his head only to find he was walking alone with Legolas, Thranduil and Bard were nowhere to be seen. A sickening feeling grew inside Thorin’s heart, he felt his stomach clenched painfully making his chest hurt.

He was about to say something when the voice of Dwalin and Bofur reached his ears, with a last glance to the place he thought Thranduil and Bard where moments ago, the Dwarven-Prince put on an expressionless face making his way towards his friends. Legolas frowned angrily, he too had noticed his father and King Bard’s absence looking around he realized Glorfindel was discussing something with the men and the rest of the dwarves and men were occupied with the recent tracks of blood they had found. Legolas felt a call deep inside his heart, a sudden discomfort pulling at him to seek out his father, thus he turned around and went looking for him never noticing Thorin was following him with his eyes.

Thranduil wondered, not for the first time, how he ended up in a situation like this. Alone with Bard giving him a begging stare trying to appeal to his emotions, the man sighed contemplating the Elven-Prince with the same warm, the same love he always held when observing Thranduil. The Elven-Prince wished things had been different between them, perhaps for Bard to understand it was not possible between them, and for Thranduil to understand what was happening to him.

“You and your brother are so alike.” Bard said speaking softly. “You never told me you have a brother. And now that I think about, you never told me anything about you.”

The hurt was evident in his voice, the man then gave a half-smile to Thranduil who held his gaze with certain amount of affection.

“I never thought it was important.” Thranduil finally said he stepped forward his eyes locating the group a few feet away. “Why do you keep doing this Bard? Why keep seeking me out and why keep this childish quarrel with Thorin?”

Bard scowled looking away at the mention of the Dwarven-Prince, “You know why I keep doing this, as to why I’m bothering the dwarf…I thought it was obvious.”

It was obvious but Thranduil didn’t want to say anything because he wasn’t ready to admit the possibility of Thorin being jealous of Bard as much as Bard was of him. Bard approached Thranduil glancing around before grabbing the Elven-Prince by surprised pressing his lips against the elf’s ones. The kiss was forced and as soon as Bard started it he ended it, his eyes growing wide his features falling into a look of complete sadness and misery.

Bard wanted to ask so many things, but he realized he wasn’t ready to know the answer to most of these questions. The King grabbed the soft face of the elf in his hands and Thranduil had to face him with a guarded expression.

“Do not do this again, Bard. I don’t…” Thranduil trailed off. “This isn’t the place and it’s not the moment, we have a pack of wargs to hunt.”

“I’m sorry, I…”

“Don’t, just…let us part like friends and not repeat this ever again.” There was such a finality behind Thranduil’s voice Bard couldn’t help but wince moving away only to find a sharp blade against his neck.

Thranduil opened his eyes while Bard tried to turn around and see who was threatening, Legolas stood his full height his eyes were as cold as ice while they glared at the King.

“Legolas, daro!” Thranduil warned firmly, Legolas flickered his eyes to his father and his rage grew.

“You…I could tell you were scare and you were anxious, are you well?” Legolas asked his voice filled with anger.

Bard lifted his arms turning his eyes to Thranduil, he felt miserable realizing his actions had scare Thranduil, that he brought such uneasiness to the elf.

“I’m sorry, Thranduil, I never meant…”

“He is Prince Thranduil to you, King Bard.” Legolas moved forward but his advances were stopped by his father who placed a calming hand on top of his shoulder.

The young elf wavered lowering his sword under the soothing presence of Thranduil, the Elven-Prince spoke softly to his son who soon put the sword away still looking icily at Bard.

“I…I apologize.” Legolas finally said taking a deep breath. “I just…I could tell you were not fine, Prince Thranduil. I got worried.”

Bard creased his brows at such strange behaviour; he could tell Thranduil was trying to soothe his brother while shooting warning glances at Bard. The King clenched his fists lowering his face feeling bad for what just happened, feeling pathetic for going after a lost cause. He stared at Thranduil finding those blue eyes looking at him sympathetically, with warm and even affection but not love.  Bard nodded briefly bowing his head to the Elven-Prince.

“I apologize, Prince Legolas. This was…It was my doing and I am terrible ashamed for this.” Bard stepped forward stopping in front of both elves. “I assure you, both of you, this won’t happen again.”

Bard left leaving Thranduil with Legolas alone, the Elven-Prince moved away from his father shooting an indignant glare to him. Thranduil was tempted to wince, he knew this he would have to explain to his son and it was a conversation he was not dying to have any time soon.

“What about Thorin, Ada?” Legolas asked softly, the question caught Thranduil by surprised he glanced at his son blinking uncertainty. “You…You cannot go around doing this!”

“Legolas…” Thranduil sighed tiredly approaching Legolas who had narrowed his eyes taking in the guard posture of his son.

“You don’t know either.” Legolas said suddenly dropping his arms while glancing at his father.

“I don’t know what? Legolas, what are you talking about.”

Legolas shook his head looking away, “I knew I didn’t like King Bard for a reason. I won’t ask for any explanations, Ada. But…He is not for you, he isn’t.”

“And Thorin is? I do not think you understand this clearly, Legolas.” Thranduil replied slightly annoyed, Legolas rolled his eyes moving past his father.

“I understand it better than you and even Captain Glorfindel, Ada.” Legolas shrugged before saying one last thing. “Besides, I like Thorin better, he makes you smile, he always seems to have a calming effect on you and you usually glow when around him.”

Thranduil stood there looking as his son walked away his words still dancing around the Elven-Prince, his mind refusing to work out the meaning behind Legolas’ words whereas his heart was trying to speak clearly to him.

“There you are, what are you doing?” Thorin questioned lightly his was trying to smile but Thranduil realized his expression was tensed, there was some sort of sadness gleaming behind those black eyes.

“I was merely contemplating the forest, are you well?” Thranduil approached Thorin with concern; the dwarf snorted shaking his head.

“You elves and your forest.” Thorin mumbled he moved away before Thranduil could reach him. “I’m well; we found blood and a couple of bodies. The wargs must be close.”

“Thorin…” Thranduil called out, his heart heavy with guiltiness at what had almost happened between himself and Bard. He regarded the Dwarven-Prince stopping any form of logic or thought when Thorin stopped turning around.

“Yes?”

“You still have a deal to keep, remember?”

Thorin snorted nodding his head, but his features didn’t change on the contrary, the sadness seemed to deepen and the Dwarven-Prince tensed walking away with Thranduil following him close behind.

Dwalin looked at the bodies of the two normal wolves and the deer resting in the middle of the path, he made a face watching their insides had been completely devoured leaving only the carcass and the smell of dead. The dwarf glanced at the bodies his axe itching to be used against the beast behind this cruel attack. Glorfindel stood beside Dwalin his own eyes drifting away in disgust and anger, this was done out of malice and not out of hunger, he could recognize the hand of ill intentions behind the bodies the traces of blood going in three different directions. It was an offering, a welcoming gift from them.

“I never care much for wolves.” Dwalin spoke softly pursing his lips, “But, as long as they didn’t mess with me or my people I wouldn’t mess with them. This wasn’t done by ordinary wargs.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“These wargs…what do you think of this?” Dwalin turned to Glorfindel whose eyes were sweeping the terrain before they turned to Dwalin.

“I believe this is a trap and we are being watched.” Glorfindel stopped the hand of Dwalin that had wrapped tightly around his axe. “You said so yourself, Master Dwalin, these are not ordinary wargs.”

Dwalin grunted nodding while moving his hand away from his weapon, Glorfindel straightened up his lips curling into a tense smile.

“Prince Bain, your father told me you seem to be a sharp archer with keen eyes, is it true?”

Bain blushed slightly smiling proudly while presenting his bow, “I’m still learning, Captain Glorfindel, but I am.”

“Good, then, I will need your eyes and those of Master Orí and Master Baggins on those trees around us.” Glorfindel explained, at the look of pure confusion coming from Bilbo and Orí and even Bain himself Glorfindel explained himself. “We can escort this area but we need eyes on top of us to tell us if, perhaps, we have missed something.”

Bain seemed to accept this as well as Orí, Bilbo furrowed his brows with his hand moving to place itself on top of the hilt of his elvish sword Sting.

“Why are you sending my son up those trees, Captain Glorfindel?” Bard watched as his son climbed the tree without any trouble, he soon lowered himself to help Orí while Glorfindel indicated to Legolas with a few words in elvish and a gesture of his hands to help Bilbo out.

“Because those trees are the safest place for the youngest of our group.” Glorfindel said softly. “Legolas, you will stay up there as well.”

Legolas opened his mouth to protest when a blood curling scream filled the clearing, without waiting any more a warg came out of his hiding place taking the head off of one of the Royal guards of King Bard.  The blood was splashed everywhere as the beats crashed the skull of the man with his jaw, soon others followed him with claws, fangs and growls in the forest echoing while the men, dwarves and elves prepared to attack.  Bain opened his eyes wide trembling slightly as he saw another man being ripped open by the sharp claws of a warg; a single grey arrow went through the beats eyes making Bard looked back at the source. Standing on a branch Legolas prepared another arrow hitting the mark whenever the arrows left his bow.

Glorfindel put his sword in a single motion stopping the warg coming his way, the elf stride forward with his arm turning and circling around slashing and hurting the beasts attacking the group. All around them was blood, fur and confusing screams in different languages, Thranduil sought with his eyes the form of his son while his hand twirled around his elvish sword. The Elven-Prince danced around the terrain completely aware of the small figure slashing a silvery axe right beside him.  Thranduil furrowed his brows while moving around to evade another warg his foot crashing against the sharp mouth of the beats while his sword slashed the neck in a single movement. The Elven-Prince found himself back to back with King Bard who was fighting just as fiercely as his men and the rest of the Dwarven company.

“They’re trying to corner us!” Bard screamed while kicking another warg.

“That’s not what is worrying me.” Thranduil replied piercing the head of the last of them, everyone around was tired breathing hard with their weapons dripping blackish blood.

Thorin took his axe away from a head approaching Thranduil with concern written on his face, the Dwarven-Prince let his eyes travelled up and down the form of the Elven-Prince ignoring the annoyed glares from Bard.

“Are you well?” Thorin couldn’t hide his worry and soon his ears burn in embarrassment when all the eyes seemed to be focused on him.

Thranduil gifted him a single tensed smile nodding, “Yes, are you?”

“It takes more than this to actually harm me.” Thorin replied looking around, his face dropped when he realized some of his friends were hurt during the fight. He went to move but Thranduil stopped him placing his hand on top of the Dwarf.

“I’m glad to hear this because the fight is not over.” It was the tone of voice Thranduil used what made Thorin stopped completely, the dwarf furrowed his brows his eyes narrowing to look around.

“What do you mean?”

“These were just lower class wargs, get ready Master Dwarf, the real fighters are coming.” Glorfindel twirled his sword with easiness his keen eyes looking into the forest.

Legolas tensed his eyes taking in the surrounding area with an arrow at the ready, the young Elven-Prince shifted feeling hungry eyes on him. For a moment, his blue eyes went to the form of his father who was now side by side with Thorin. Legolas smiled watching as Thorin took a complete defensive position while placing his body in front of his father’s one; it was probably an unconscious movement, Legolas was completely sure Thorin wasn’t even aware of how protective he was acting and Thranduil was completely oblivious to this as well. Legolas took his eyes away from the pair sure they were protected, he then turned his attention to Balin  and Dwalin who were watching over Gloin and Oín, both of them nursing nasty scratches on their arms.

Everything was silent, nothing was moving.

The light of the day was diminishing little by little letting the group know soon they would not have enough light to fight against the pack. Which may be the wargs idea from the very beginning, this idea worried Legolas greatly, wargs that think were much more than a simple hungry pack.

The second attack came as sudden as the first attack.

Bain screamed his arrow leaving the bow while he almost fell of his branch, the warg had jumped straight towards him but the beast found his end with Bard’s and Legolas’ arrow piercing his neck and eye. Legolas focused his attention on jumping from one branch to the other, his hand stretching to pull Bain back on the tree while reading another arrow and shooting the enemy.

“Bain!” Bard fought his way closer to his son while trying to escape dead by injuring or killing wargs.

The man moved closer soon finding himself at the mercy of one of the biggest beast of the pack, the creature snickered his sharp teeth gleaming just as those yellow eyes pierce through the King. The attack never came as Thorin broke the head of the warg with his axe, the dwarf crossed stares with Bard and then move on to the next victim.

“Thorin! Down!” Legolas screamed his hand moving swiftly to shoot three different arrows to a warg coming Thorin’s way, Thorin knelt turning around swinging his axe above his head nodding a thanks to Legolas.

The young Elven-Prince watched his father turned around his sword gleaming with the blood of the enemies, their eyes crossed briefly both of them reassuring the other of their well-being. Everything seemed to be going well for them when the sharp eyes of the Elven-Prince found something beyond the place where the fight was taking place. Legolas narrowed his eyes to see the small, twitching figure snuggled up on itself, trembling under the grass.

“Bain! Can you keep this front?” Legolas asked the young teen, Bain turned to Legolas nodding while shooting another arrow.

“Prince Legolas, what are you going to do?” Bilbo approached the elf while launching stones with the precision of an elf.

“There is something…I think is a baby, it needs help!” Legolas didn’t wait to be told it wasn’t a good idea, he knew it wasn’t. But he felt compassion when he saw the small creature tremble with blood on his front paw and an approaching lower class warg.

Legolas jumped from the branched to the closest tree, his arms wrapping tightly around the trunk, he turned slightly pressing his feet on the hard surface while putting his dagger out. His eyes focused on the warg that was getting ready to attack, Legolas pushed himself from the tree landing directly on the warg’s back, the dagger went through the skull with little resistance. The warg emitted a bloodcurdling howl before dropping dead on the ground. Legolas put his dagger out approaching the small figure he had seen on the tree, kneeling down the young elf realized his eyes had not lied. There on the ground was a cub trembling in fear and pain since his front paw seemed broken.

“Hey, don’t worry, little guy.” Legolas spoke tensing suddenly when he felt an approaching enemy from behind. Legolas turned around in time to see one of the bigger wargs coming at him, the front paws of the best hitting him straight on his chest and left arm pushing the young Prince backwards.

There was no way for him to know the road ended there, Legolas opened his eyes in surprised when he realized there was no more ground under his feet and he fell backwards, the last thing he remembered was hearing Thorin screaming his name and the Dwarf jumping up on top of the warg while burying his axe on the head of the beast. Then everything went black.

Thorin wrapped his hand around a vine his axe still firmly placed on the head of the warg that was now at the bottom of the cliff. The Dwarf opened his eyes screaming Legolas name all over again until he felt a cold, firm hand wrapping around his wrist. Thranduil was looking paled his blue eyes went from Thorin and then to Legolas his eyes growing wide, his lower lip quivering.

“Legolas…” Pain was palpable in the simple name; Thranduil glanced at Thorin then at his son.

“Let me go.” Thorin grunted to the elf, it took Thranduil a second to understand what Thorin said but the elf grabbed Thorin’s wrist tightly. Behind them they could still hear the sounds of fighting.

“Let me go!” Thorin repeated but Thranduil shook his head.

“I won’t let you go.”

Thorin rolled his eyes trying to pull his hand away, “Let me go so I can help Legolas, he isn’t alone down there!”

Thranduil then understood what Thorin meant, while he was focused on the form of his son, Thorin had seen the approaching danger in the form of two more wargs. With reluctance Thranduil let go of the dwarf’s wrist leaving Thorin to try and climb down while jumping to land on another warg. He winced when the wound on his side hurt, the warg growled closely to him giving Thorin enough time to stop those jaws closing around his head with his bare hands. Thorin opened his eyes grunting and cursing in dwarvish while trying to open the mouth of his attacker even more. The warg growled and then howl in pain before it felt heavily on Thorin, two arrows swiftly placed on his heart.

Thorin turned around to see the other warg dead with three arrows on his back, incorporating the dwarf went to Thranduil who was kneeling down his hands were holding Legolas carefully while tears rolled down on his face. If Thorin thought he had seen Thranduil broken when the sword of his past lover was given to him, he had seen nothing like the sight of Thranduil mourning over his younger brother. It was as if something had been ripped away from the elf and Thorin wanted nothing more than to take away his pain. Kneeling down he realized Legolas was still breathing, if with some difficulty, the young elf was unconscious, blood pouring from a nasty wound on his head and his left arm.

“Thranduil, we need to move.” Thorin spoke placing his hand on top of Thranduil’s one. The sound of howling and growling filling the air making Thorin wondered what had happened to the others.

Thranduil was in a trance with his eyes completely focused on his son, Thorin glanced down when a soft whimpering came from something in Legolas right arm. The Dwarven-Prince furrowed his brows when he realized it was a cub; by the form and the fur, it looked more like an hybrid, a wolf and warg hybrid.  Thorin scowled wondering if this was what Legolas had been trying to save or kill when he was attacked, the Dwarven-Prince realized the cub had his front paw broken and was whimpering softly in the arms of the elf.

“We should put him out of his misery.” Thorin said eyeing the beast with mistrust.

“Legolas was protecting him; we won’t harm him in any way.” Thranduil spoke clearly tears still falling down his cheeks.

Thorin hesitated for a second, he glanced at Thranduil then at the cub then at Legolas, his mind working fast on a solution for he could hear more howling and growling from above but there was no sound coming from their friends and allies. Night was already consuming the daylight, the cold was starting to sneak inside their clothes and Legolas was scarily cold.

“Thranduil, we need to move, can you carry Legolas?” Thorin asked leaning closer to the Elven-Prince who was trembling slightly.

“I don’t…I don’t know what if…what if we hurt him? I can’t…” Thranduil trailed off when Thorin pressed his forehead against his, the warm breath of the Dwarven-Prince caressing his cold features, the hand at the nape of his neck brought a calming effect to the elf.

“I promise you for my life I won’t let anything happen to you or Legolas, but I need you to carry Legolas while I make sure to take us to a secure place.” Thorin spoke softly soothingly; his heart was hammering against his ribcage, his body acting on pure adrenaline and his own underlying desires.

“I need you to put yourself together so we can carry Legolas to a safe place and look at his wounds, can you do this for me?”

Thranduil closed his eyes with his mind still worrying over Legolas but his soul and heart warming up giving in the sense of security the closeness and the words from Thorin brought him. Thranduil lifted his hand to cup Thorin cheek, opening his eyes to stare directly into Thorin’s eyes.

“Yes, I can do it.” The Elven-Prince whispered Thorin nodded briefly moving away before he did something stupid.

“Good, then let me carry this little beast and then you can pick Legolas up.” Thorin grabbed the cub that was soon snuggling closer to the protective embrace of the Dwarf.

“You won’t harm him, will you?” Thranduil moved his arms under his son with care, he took a deep breath incorporating himself slowly to make sure the left arm was safely place on the abdomen of his son while Legolas head rest on his shoulder.  Thranduil froze when a moan of pain came from the lips of his son, but the elf didn’t wake up.

“I won’t harm him, I promise.” Thorin replied, the Dwarven-Prince growled when he heard the heavy steps of several creatures approaching. “Come, we need to move down this steam, I know where we are.”

By the time they reached their destination the moon was high in the sky with several stars lighting up the night. With every footstep Thranduil worried even more about the fate of his son, Legolas was barely breathing and he had started shivering under the cold night with the blood still pouring slightly from his wounds. On their way to the waterfall they had found only two wargs and Thorin had made a fast work on them before guiding them through the forest, the Dwarven-Prince kept on wondering where his company was and if they were doing fine, but the answer to such questions would have to wait for the next day. Now, what they needed the most was refugee and a fire to make sure they cleaned Legolas’ wounds properly.

Their refugee came into view soon enough, Thorin made sure they weren’t being followed and a part of him wished he had brought Thranduil to the waterfall in different circumstances. The Elven-Prince doubt for a moment when he didn’t see any visible refugee until Thorin guide him to the foamy stream of the waters hitting the rocks and the joining the river. The place was beautiful, and the air around them was filled with flowery scents; Thorin climbed a couple of rocks guiding Thranduil with care to a hidden cave right behind the cascade.

Thranduil placed Legolas on the ground while Thorin lit the fire; the Elven-Prince leaned forward taking the vembrance from his son left arm his eyes filling with tears when he saw the deep marks there. Legolas grunted in pain but didn’t wake up; Thranduil caressed his forehead with trembling hands filling a part of him dying at the sight of his son so helpless and hurt. The cub he had saved was now curled up on his chest, his right paw a little stretched as to not hurt it himself. Thranduil was so tempted to scream and laugh, to think this all had happened because Legolas had noticed the cub.

“You fool…always getting into trouble because you can’t see others suffer.” Thranduil whispered brokenly, the Elven-Prince turned when a hand fell on his shoulder.

Legolas was trembling, his lips were starting to turn blue and Thorin had felt the coldness coming from the elf. He was not used to see Elves suffering from cold, is he had learnt right Elves usually didn’t suffer from it. Furrowing his brows, Thorin took his coat off of himself and place it with care on top of Legolas body. Thranduil shoot him a grateful stare smiling when Thorin allowed his hand to travel to the back of Thranduil’s neck.

“I read somewhere you Elves don’t suffer from cold, but he is…” Thorin trailed off when a look of pure helplessness and fear crossed Thranduil’s eyes.

“We don’t. Cold only comes to use when we are sick.” Thranduil didn’t say more, lowering his gaze to his son.

Thorin knelt down seeking the eyes of the Elven-Prince, “He is going to be fine. I promise you.”

Thranduil glanced at Thorin with new tears forming in his eyes, “Thank you.”

Thorin shook his head, “I have never loved Bilbo more than I do now.”

Those words were received with a hint of annoyance and confusion from Thranduil’s part, Thorin put a small pouch from his side revealing some small bottles and a few bandages. The Dwarven-Prince put everything out on the ground glancing at what he had brought with him.

“He gave you his, actually. For you to take care of my wounds, after dealing with us for so long, Bilbo made it an habit to make all of us carry these things.” Thorin smiled fondly at the memory. “He said he was tired of us getting hurt and not having some medical basics with us.”

Thranduil glanced at the pouch feeling grateful to the hobbit and to Thorin, he turned to Legolas watching as the warm of the coat and the fire started warming him up again.

“Is there…can I help?” Thranduil whispered softly, Thorin looked behind him then back at Thranduil.

“Bilbo forgot his pot here. It is slightly old, but I think it can work.” Thorin stood up. “I will put some water there and then we can clean Legolas wounds. But, Thranduil, you are the healer of the two of us, tell me what you need?”

The Elven-Prince watched the bottles realizing there were some ointments that could work as analgesics and others to help in the healing. His hands were trembling, his mind was completely clouded, Thranduil wished he was stronger to face the sight of his son lying unconscious. But he was breaking again, his mind whispering traitorous words of how he had left Legolas the same way he left Haldir.

Thranduil would have broken again if it wasn’t for the comforting embrace coming from Thorin. The dwarf wrapped his arms around him, his face resting against the neck of Thorin while his tears rolled down silently.

Soon, Thranduil felt his breath caught in his throat when Thorin placed his forehead against his for the second time that day. The Elven-Prince had his eyes closed but he could tell Thorin was staring at him intently; the dwarf had his fingertips caressing the nape of Thranduil’s neck drawing small comforting circles. The sat like this for a long time, Thorin felt his heart beating for the mere chance of taking this elf in his arms, while Thranduil gave in the comfort Thorin brought, his own thoughts were a complete mess to even try and make sense of what was happening inside him. Thorin was about to move to bring the water but Thranduil spoke then, his breath teasing the sensitive skin of Thorin’s face.

“I’m worried about Legolas.” Thranduil stopped Thorin from moving, wrapping his arms around the Dwarf to keep him close, to keep the comfort he brought. “He hasn’t woken up, his left arm is probably broken. I’m afraid.”

Thorin found it curious how deep the affections from Thranduil to Legolas ran, it was as if Thranduil himself had been hurt as if he was losing a part of his soul. But then again, Thorin thought he would probably feel the same way if his little brother was hurt in such a way. He did feel it when Frerin was lost or whenever he thought his sister was in danger.

“He is going to wake up, don’t worry.” Thorin then sat down looking over at Legolas.

“Thank you.” Thranduil said suddenly turning to Thorin. “You…You helped him against that warg, if it hadn’t been for you the beast would have killed him.”

Thorin tilted his head, “Don’t say that. And you don’t have to thank me; I would have saved him a thousand times I have come to appreciate him as…as a little brother. And I would have also done it if only…if only to not bring you sorrow.”

Silence fell between them, Thranduil looking away coyly while Thorin kept his eyes on Legolas.

“I like him, he is…different, nice, for an elf.” Thorin smiled gently when he saw Thranduil smiling shakily.

“I think…I need something to put his arm in a split, and something for the cub as well.” Thranduil was feeling more confident, his voice stopped trembling taking in the usual firmness it held. “And the warm water, if you don’t mind.”

Thorin nodded briefly, he stood up and went to the edge of the cave leaving Thranduil alone to bring whatever he needed. Moments later the both of them were working around to make sure the wounds on Legolas head and arm were attended, this work fine for Thranduil who needed the distraction to stop his dark thoughts. He wrapped his son’s arm around the branches Thorin had brought and worked as to not let any splinter out and then he proceeded to do the same to the little wolf who was whining as he tried to cure the paw.

Thorin watched from afar, from time to time he would assist Thranduil but the Elven-Prince was the one doing most of the work. Moments later Legolas was sleeping with Thorin’s coat on and the cub curled up on his chest. Thranduil moved away some strands of blond hair watching at his son with affection.

Thorin then grabbed the sword Thranduil had given to Legolas while sitting beside Thranduil, the Elven-Prince tensed already sensing the question. Thorin placed the sword away lifting his black eyes to Thranduil.

“I was surprised when I saw this sword on him; I thought…you would keep it.” Thorin shifted then shaking his head. “I apologize, this is not my business, I shouldn’t…”

“Haldir would have wanted him to have it.” Thranduil replied with a confession right at the tip of his tongue. When the Elven-Prince turned to stare at Thorin he realized he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t tell Thorin the truth about Legolas, not yet anyway.

“I see.” Thorin put some biscuits from his pocket, the food was in crumbles but it was still edible. “Here, sorry about the mess.”

Thranduil offered Thorin a smiled before taking one of the pieces of the biscuit; they ate in silence both of them looking everywhere but at the other. Just like the day Thranduil had cried on Thorin’s shoulder and even in the Winter Festival, Thranduil could tell something had changed. He never thought he would warm up to Thorin, not when the Dwarf represented another way for him to be locked in or controlled.  Thranduil shifted tilting his head while letting his blue eyes rested on the form of the Dwarven-Prince. Thorin turned looking back at him with wonderment in his black eyes, Thorin lifted a hand to put a strand of blond hair away from the Elven-Prince’s face.

“You look tired, you should rest a little.” Thorin commented. “I can keep watch on you and Legolas until morning arrives.”

“You should sleep as well.” Thranduil replied.

“Hn, I can take a night of not sleep.” Thorin was about to stand up when Thranduil leaned in stopping him.

“Don’t, please, I just…” Thranduil trailed off feeling ridiculous. “I don’t want to stay alone, can you…”

Thorin furrowed his brows watching the bifurcation leading to the exit of the cave, he knew the waters of the waterfall were protecting the entrance of the cave, but still he didn’t think it would be prudent for the three of them to be asleep. Not when the attack they suffered looked slightly orchestrate, as if those wargs had been waiting for them. But the lost stare on those blue eyes, the still quivering lip and the broken tinge on Thranduil’s voice was breaking Thorin’s resolution.

“You sure are a spoiled Prince, are you not?” Thorin commented shaking his head while moving to sit beside Thranduil again.

Thranduil offered a half-smile to the dwarf before doing something completely unexpected; he leaned forward resting his head on Thorin’s shoulder. Thorin tensed for a moment his mind going overdrive trying to understand what was really happening between them, why Thranduil seemed so close yet so far away from him.

“Thank you, Thorin. I don’t know what I would have done today after everything…you…” Thranduil mumbled falling asleep without really meaning to.

Thorin sat there with his back against the rock, Thranduil snuggling closer to him and Legolas still unconscious. He lowered his eyes to see the exhausting form of Thranduil, his fingertips brushing away a stray of blond hair while trying to feel the softness of the elf’s skin. Thorin felt his heart beat at the mere sight of the elf.

“I wish this could be easier for us.” Thorin whispered leaning against the elven head, he turned his eyes to the bifurcation decided not to close his eyes and stand guard all through the night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, Happy New Year, Guys!! I hope this new year brings more dreams and more happiness to each and every single one of you.


	9. The heart of a dwarf, the perceptiveness of the elf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil says good-bye, there is a new addition to the family, tension is building up and Thorin does something he isn't pretty sure he regrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turn out to be longer than I imagine! Thank you all for your comments, your kind words and for being patient with me. Remember English isn't my mother tongue and I try very hard to go over this chapter, I hope you like it and can forgive the mistakes.

**Chapter 9**

**The heart of a dwarf, the perceptiveness of the elf**

**Part 2**

 

“Ada…” It was a mere whisper but it was enough to jerk Thranduil awake.

Legolas was deeply asleep with a wolf cub licking his face and snuggling closer to his chest, guilt started filling up Thranduil’s heart at having fallen asleep while trying to watch over his wounded son. He was about to stand up when he was made aware of a heavy weight but comfortable warm body on his left side. With his body tingling in anticipation, Thranduil tilted his head to see Thorin Oakenshield sounded asleep with his head resting on the elf’s shoulder.  Thorin had been using the shoulder of the elf as a pillow, his mouth was hanging open drooling unaware of those blue eyes watching him with amusement.  For Thranduil, It had been such a long time since he felt so safe under the protective arms of someone sharing his sleep, Thranduil couldn’t help but stare at the Dwarven-Prince with wonderment and confusion. The Elven-Prince lifted his hand, trembling fingers brushing away the frown on the dwarf’s forehead. Thorin softened his features mumbling something unintelligible while putting Thranduil closer to him.

Aware they weren’t alone in the cave, Prince Thranduil turned his head to see Legolas curled up with the little wolf watching him with big curious eyes, and the Elven-Prince smiled his fingertips still brushing the face of the dwarf while he tried to look around the cave. It was morning already, with the light of the sun slipping through the falling water hitting the stone of the cave. In the moment of silence, Thranduil closed his eyes again while his mind started working on the thoughts he had been scaring away as of late. Thoughts regarding the dwarf now snuggling closer to him while wrapping a possessive arm around his body. Thranduil couldn’t help but wonder why his body seemed to be tingling all over at the closeness of Thorin, his heart beating a tad bit faster while his blue eyes took in the short beard and the young rough features of Thorin’s face. Thranduil looked away hating his own vulnerability and his weakness at the mere thought of Thorin actually looking rather handsome while sleeping, or smiling, or fighting or being attentive to him.

Thranduil let out a heavy sigh looking away from the confusion that was Thorin Oakenshield to turn his attention back to his son. The Elven-Prince almost pushed the sleeping form of the dwarf off of him when he realized Legolas was looking at him with a tired smile adorning his features.

“Ada?” Legolas moaned chuckling when the cub licked his face whimpering. “Hey, little fella.”

Legolas followed his father’s movements as the Elven-Prince tried to put Thorin off of him with care, the Dwarven-Prince furrowed his brows trying to keep the warm of the elf closer. Thranduil unwrapped himself from the dwarf pressing a calming hand on Thorin’s cheek, soon the frown disappeared and Thorin was back to his sleepy musings. Legolas quirked a brow at the tenderness behind his father’s actions, Thranduil dismissed this while kneeling down in front of Legolas his hand trembling while moving away a blond lock from his son’s face.

“Ion-nîn, you have me worried.” Thranduil couldn’t hide away the sorrow on his eyes, or the relief he felt when Legolas looked back at him. “I thought…you scare me greatly, if it hadn’t been for Thorin I do not want to imagine what could have happened to you.”

“I’m sorry, Ada.” Legolas tried to incorporate with the help of his father, the little cub sitting down whining at being suddenly ignored. Legolas smiled picking the wolf up rubbing the grey fur lightly. “He was hurt, a warg was about to kill him when I saved him. I didn’t see the other warg coming at me and then…Thorin saved me.”

“I know. Legolas, I thought I lost you.” Thranduil said with a trembling voice putting Legolas closer, Legolas wrapped his good arm around his father trying to comfort him the best way he could.

“I’m sorry, Ada. I won’t do it again.” Legolas promised closing his eyes with a warm smile adorning his features at the soft pressing of his father’s lips on his forehead.

“Did you and Thorin sleep together?” Legolas laughed at the faltering in his father, Thranduil glared at his son finding annoying the fact his cheeks were burning red.

“You need to learn how to ask these questions, Legolas.” Thranduil sat back looking at Thorin who was still fast asleep. “He was supposed to watch over us, I think he just fell asleep. We both fell asleep watching over you.”

“Aw, Ada, that’s kind of cute, you know?” Legolas bumped against his father who merely shook his head trying to get his feelings under control. “You just wait until I tell Master Glorfindel; he is going to be delighted.”

“Stop it right there, Ion-nîn, you won’t… you shouldn’t say things like that.” Thranduil finally said Legolas rolled his eyes scratching the back of the ears of the wolf. “And, if you tell Glorfindel I will find a punishment fitting of such mischief.”

“You still don’t see it, do you? Either that, or you really don’t want to admit it.” Legolas said softly wincing slightly. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Thranduil ignored the first comment in favour of his son’s well-being; he leaned forward pressing his hand on the younger elf’s forehead furrowing his brows.

“You’re not cold anymore, but I think you need rest and something to eat.” Thranduil turned towards Thorin then back at Legolas. “We should wake him up, then get out of here and look for the others. I believe by now Glorfindel must be tearing away the forest looking for us.”

Legolas chuckled looking as his father approached the Dwarven-Prince, a moment of hesitation with a strange flickering behind his father’s eyes told Legolas Thranduil was thinking if he should wake Thorin at all. The Dwarven-Prince looked tired but he also was looking at ease, the frown that was forming on his face was soon erased when Thranduil let his fingertips trace the soft features of his face. Legolas tilted his head narrowing his eyes to analyse his father’s every move, Thranduil tensed when he noticed what he was doing just how close and tender he was acting towards the Dwarven-Prince. Looking out of the corner of his eyes, Thranduil felt the weight of his son’s stare on him. The Elven-Prince shook away his thoughts and puzzling feelings placing his hand on Thorin’s shoulder to shake him gently.

“Thorin?” Thranduil called in what he thought was a soft yet firm tone, Thorin grumbled stirring slightly without waking up his voice rough asking for five more minutes. The Elven-Prince smirked chuckling alongside with his son. “Oh, the things I could do with this information, the venerable heir to the Throne of Erebor asking for five more minutes of sleep.”

Legolas rolled his eyes but he too was thinking of the ending teasing moments he could get out of this moment. Thranduil turned to Thorin trying to wake him up again.

“Thorin, wake up.” This time Thranduil tried to shake him a little harder, but Thorin was still sleeping grumbling with only one single name leaving his lips in a longing whisper.

“Thranduil…”

The Elven-Prince knelt frozen on the spot his cheeks warming up when Thorin tried to seek his touch rolling to his right side. This, however, turned out to be counter-productive as the Dwarven-Prince slid almost falling to his right side making Thorin jerked awake rather alarmed hitting his head with the wall while the cave filled with the clear sound of elven laughter.

Thorin straightened up with his face warming up, his left arm rubbing the back of his head while he tried to glare at Legolas and Thranduil that were still laughing at his expense. The Dwarven-Prince furrowed his brows rather upset when he realized he fell asleep during his watch, as if that wasn’t enough he knew he probably mumbled and said something embarrassing. Thorin rolled his eyes crossing his arms while shooting a quick glare at Legolas then setting his black eyes on the Elven-Prince. Never before had Thorin seen Thranduil so relaxed or beaming with such happiness, certainly the Elven-Prince held the tiredness of the events of the day before but his blue eyes were gleaming with laughter and his face was exuding that ethereal light Thorin had come to associate with him. It took his breath away; it made him warm inside his hand twitching to get closer and be allowed to touch and to embrace the male sitting in front of him. Thorin would happily fall over his ass when necessary if that meant he could see Thranduil smiling the way he was doing right now.

When Thranduil could finally control himself, the Elven-Prince noticed the intensity behind those black eyes. Thranduil looked away unable to hold Thorin’s stare for he felt a pull deep inside him trying to make him do something utterly crazy. Thorin tried to smile back but he thought his smile was a poor imitation of the beauty that was Thranduil, his eyes warmed up while he shook his head trying to conceal the raw love he was feeling at the moment.

“Aye, laugh all you want, elf.” Thorin tried to sound menacing but he just couldn’t, Legolas sat back arching his brows while watching the scene, his father had stopped laughing but the smile was still present, those blue eyes of the Elven-Prince were gleaming the same way Thorin’s were. Legolas knew right there and there the fate of his father and Thorin had been sealed, even if none of them could see it yet.

“This is your fault.” Thorin stood up working the kinks on his knees, Thranduil tilted his head smirking.

“How is it my fault, dwarf? It was you the one asking for five more minutes of sleep.” Thranduil followed Thorin, standing up while still teasing the dwarf. “And here I thought you were an early raiser, no wonder you’re so moody in the mornings.”

“I’m not moody in the mornings.” Thorin replied narrowing his eyes at Thranduil. “Besides, look who is talking? The mighty elf that doesn’t need sleep but falls asleep not sooner he rests his weight against me.”

“Ada is a heavy sleeper as well.” Legolas snorted receiving a glare from Thranduil and a grateful smile for Thorin none of them really noticing the slip coming from Legolas.

“That’s not completely true.” Thranduil turned to Thorin who was smirking at him. “And you don’t flatter yourself; me resting against you was a necessity.”

“Oh, really? What kind of necessity? Tell me, O Elven-Prince?” Thorin replied smirking enjoying the red tingeing the cheeks of the elf.

“Perhaps the same need you have when you decide to call my name in your sleep?” Thranduil then retorted. “Or when you told me you would keep watch and then fall asleep?”

Thorin stuttered opening and closing his mouth several moments before crossing his arms, “I didn’t call your name, you must be delusional!”

“Delusional? Legolas, tell our Dwarven-Prince over here he called my name.”

Legolas soon found himself under the heavy stares of both Princes; he lifted his good arm shaking his head.

“Oh, no, you won’t drag me into this.” Legolas curled his lips shooting his father a meaningful stare, the Elven-Prince narrowed his eyes at him going back to his little quarrel with Thorin.

“Besides,” Legolas smirked shooting his father and then Thorin a cheeky stare. “This lover’s quarrel is only for the both of you, I think me and little Beleg over here are going to just watch and enjoy the show.”

Legolas was so tempted to laugh at the look of pure horror on their faces, but he remained pleasantly silent while both Princes huffed indignantly sealing their lips before something else were to escape them. Something neither of them was ready to admit.

“Wait a minute, who is Beleg?” Thorin asked furrowing his brows in confusion; Legolas opened his eyes before glancing down to the cub trying to eat his boot.

 

*****

Bard clenched his fists in frustration while his eyes inspected the surrounding area in which Bilbo and Dwalin had decided to stop.  They had started the search for the Princes early in the morning trying to go back to the spot where the fight against the wargs took place. Bard had seen blood and signs of struggle, fear gripped his heart at the thought of Thranduil being hurt at the mercy of the natural elements and the probably incompetence of Thorin and Legolas.  Glorfindel was standing a few feet away his keen eyes looking beyond the dense forest, his ears twitching to hear every word from the search party; Bard had only met with the Elven Captain a couple of times, for a while he also felt jealous of the closeness the male shared with Thranduil but soon he understood what Glorfindel and Thranduil shared was a deep friendship forged through the centuries they had been living on Arda.

“Why don’t we follow the tracks left in the cliff?” Bard asked making sure Glorfindel could hear him; the Elven Captain turned to him his grey eyes glancing tiredly at the King. “The blood track goes the other way not this way. Besides, I do not believe they will try to go further inside the forest, that wouldn’t have been wise if one of them is hurt.”

Bilbo made a sound of disapproval he approached the King crossing his arms, “Thorin knows this forest as well as you do, King Bard. Believe me; if one of them was hurt and there was not a chance for them to join us he would have sought a safe place for them.”

“The river and the waterfall are this way, that’s not a safe place to me. Wargs could go down this path for water.” Bard retorted seeking agreement from the elf; Glorfindel however had been silent following everything the Halfling proposed.

“Prince Thorin is no fool, King Bard.” Dwalin grumbled kneeling down to touch a black stain on the road. “You saw the body of the warg we just passed, he took this way.”

Bard opened his mouth to retort and let his frustration know, the man however decided not to argue any more. It was obvious the Dwarves and Captain Glorfindel were not going to hear his advice and either way Bard had already sent two of his best men down the road the others didn’t want to take. Now all he had to do was wait and hope Thranduil was doing fine. King Bard sighed again following Bilbo, Dwalin, Oín and Glorfindel down the improvised path his mind working darkly on thoughts about Thorin and Thranduil and how, little by little, Bard had been losing whatever chance or hope he might have regarding his relationship with the Elven-Prince.

*****

Once they made sure Legolas was doing well and he was ready to walk, the three of them left the safety of the cave with Thorin leading them down the road. Legolas had been quite stubborn about his state assuring his father and Prince Thorin he was ready to go back to the main camp, his sword, his quiver and his bow were now being carried by Thorin and Thranduil both Princes ready to fight off any enemies if needed it.

Beleg whined softly moving his paws while trying to get on the ground, Thorin glanced this with some curiosity as Legolas spoke in elvish to the cub. Thranduil shook his head pursing his lips while Legolas struggled with the wolf.

“We should make sure his leg is well before you let him go, Legolas.”

As soon as this words left Thranduil’s mouth Thorin could see the heartbroken expression on Legolas. Wisely, Thorin decided to step back and merely watch what was about to come; a part of Thorin, a suspicious one, told him there was something _off_ about the relationship between Thranduil and Legolas. But his suspicions were soon shut up in favour of the oncoming show.

“We can’t!” Legolas exclaimed energetically. “He is hurt! And he can’t defend himself if we’re to leave him, Ada.”

Thranduil opened his eyes slightly shooting a warning gaze to his son; Thorin tilted his head but decided to pretend he wasn’t hearing the whole discussion. Thranduil sighed trying to soften his tone while approaching the topic from a different angle.

“Legolas, we can’t take a wolf into the mountain.” Thranduil reasoned softening his features a little. “You save him and we have cured him, now you have to believe he is strong enough to survive.”

“He isn’t! He is a cub! A baby! I won’t abandon him for another pack of wolves or wargs to come over and devour him!”

The wind blew softly amongst them, the blond locks shift covering the tired features of both elves. Observing them this close, Thorin could see the same stubbornness in the pair of blue eyes, the pursed of the lips the wounds of the battle fought the day before. Even if Legolas was still shorter than Thranduil there was so much familiarity, so much similarities between the both of them if Thorin didn’t know better he would have thought he was beside father and son and not brothers. Thranduil let his concern stare examine the form of his son, the blood still covering the left arm and the side of his head, the wince Legolas couldn’t hide when they were walking. He felt guilty at being incapable of protecting him, his heart shrank when Legolas put a protective arm around the wolf and for a brief moment Thranduil was reminded of himself…he remembered the time Legolas had been born, how he had wrapped his arms protectively around his son before his father took Legolas away.

“I promised him I would look after him.” Legolas finally said. “I can’t leave him.”

Thranduil snorted shaking his head, “This is Mr.Rabbit, Red-tail, and Sebastian all over again.”

Thorin quirked a brow when he saw the embarrassed blush covering Legolas face, he couldn’t help it he leaned forward with amusement.

“What are you talking about?” Thorin saw as Legolas looked away but Thranduil curved his lips up.

“This is what happens when I let you forge friendship with crazy wizards. I will have another serious talk with Radagast regarding you going around taking care of all the wound animals you find in your way.” Thranduil then turned to Thorin but the Dwarven-Prince saw whatever attempted at being firm from the elf’s part was a mere act.

The decision about Beleg coming with them was already taken.

“Radagast? I’ve heard of him…what does he have to do with this?”

“Hn, he and Legolas had come to an agreement of taken care of the helpless. Mr.Rabbit was his first friend.” Thranduil smirked when Legolas let out a frustrated sigh.

“I was five, Prince Thranduil.” Legolas exclaimed.

“You were a grown elf when you saved Red-tail and Sebastian.” At Thorin’s perplex stare Thranduil continued. “A squirrel and a hedgehog.”

Legolas looked mortified by the memories of how he came across these creatures, Thorin found the whole deal hilarious while Thranduil was certainly charmed by the unchanging nature of his son. Thranduil took little Beleg from Legolas arms, he lifted the wolf that tilted his head his big eyes looking into Thranduil’s ones.

“You will look after him.” Thranduil said firmly. “You will teach him to behave and, more importantly, you will ask for permission to keep him.”

Legolas whole face lit up, this was enough for Thranduil who returned the wolf to Legolas arms and step away. Thorin soon found himself being the focus of elven eyes, Legolas approached him looking earnestly at him.

“You won’t mind, do you?” Legolas asked to the Dwarven-Prince who soon was looking like a startle animal.

On one hand, he had come closer to killing the little beast. Beleg was an hybrid after all, they did not know much about what he could do once he grew up; they would need to watch him closely and make sure he was not a threat. On the other hand, Legolas had almost died to protect the cub, and the little beast was looking all cute and defenceless snuggling closer to the Elven-Prince.

“I promise I will look after him, he is already understanding me.” Legolas smiled proudly while he called the wolf by his name and the wolf lifted his face seeking him out. “See?”

“What if he turns out to be dangerous?” Thorin questioned.

Legolas hesitated his eyes rolled down to Beleg then back at Thorin, “Then, I’ll take care of him myself.”

Thorin stood up shaking his head while ruffling Beleg’s head, the little wolf lift his muzzle his tongue out to lick the dwarf’s hand.

“You are right, he is hurt and he won’t survive alone.” Thorin shrugged. “I guess we take him back with us to Erebor.”

Legolas grinned triumphal thanking Thorin while telling the news to Beleg. Thranduil was observing all of this at a safe distance, the Elven-Prince thought of how everything had change in less than two months. His blue eyes sought Thorin finding the Dwarven-Prince talking with Legolas while they resumed their stroll down the forest hidden paths. It was strange how Thranduil felt drawn to the dwarf he hated with a passion on their first meeting. A voice, soft and entrancing, asked him if it was really hate or if, perhaps, it was mere frustration regarding the situation both of them found themselves in. Thranduil felt a sudden need to go over to Thorin and do _something_ , it was such a strange sensation, a need building up inside his chest expanding all through his body making him react without thinking.

“Are you well?” Thorin grabbed his hand furrowing his brows in concern, Thranduil found himself far too close to the Dwarven-Prince with his hand squeezing the strong shoulder protected only by a linen shirt and a leathery vest.

Thranduil lowered his gaze his heart beating fast, his mind couldn’t provide him with an explanation of this sudden reaction. The Elven-Prince let go of Thorin taking a step back aware of the stares of his son and Thorin on him.

Thranduil cleared his throat unable to look away from Thorin, “I just want to thank you. For everything.”

Thorin squeezed the elf’s hand giving him a half-smile, “Don’t be a fool. There is nothing you need to thank me for.”

“You could at least be more polite and receive my thanks.” Thranduil retorted rather annoyed.

“Don’t be so sensitive, O Elven-Prince.” Thorin rolled his eyes. “I was merely pointing out you didn’t need to thank me.”

“Still, I did it, the least you could do, O Dwarven-Prince, was to answer more gently.”

Legolas huffed tiredly shaking his head and walking ahead of both Princes who soon were engaged in another discussion.  Thorin and Thranduil soon settled in their bickering with ease, it was comfortable and it was familiar and it made them forget whatever they were starting to feel with intensity for one another.

*****

Midday had arrived with the light of the sun sneaking into the forest, the cold air of fading winter touching the tired faces of the search party with refreshing caresses. It was Bilbo the first one to spot them coming down the hidden road looking just as tired as the others felt.

“Thorin!” No one had ever seen Bilbo Baggins so gleefully or childish before, the Hobbit ran as fast as his legs could take him throwing his arms around the Dwarven-Prince who hugged him back with a half-smile adorning his gruffly features.

“Master Baggins, it’s good to know I’m still very welcome in your arms.” The dwarf teased before groaning when Bilbo hit him hard on his arm and chest.

“You, inconsiderate Prince! You have us all worried!”

Thranduil had stopped moving as soon as Bilbo reached them, those blue eyes of his gleamed strangely at the way Thorin and Bilbo interacted, the Elven-Prince couldn’t help the sudden annoyance wanting to push away the little hobbit. Feeling ridiculous at such strange and unnecessary reaction, Thranduil turned making his way to Glorfindel who was standing right beside King Bard.

“Mellon nîn, the next time you decided to scare me like this, please consider my old age.” Glorfindel smirked when Thranduil bowed his head.

“I will try, Yaaraer.” Thranduil flickered his eyes to Bard who was tensed shifting from one foot to the other undecided if he should approach Thranduil or not. “I do apologize for the inconvenient we caused.”

“It was my fault, actually.” Legolas took a step forward and the company tensed when their eyes fell upon the grey form of the wolf in his good arm.

“Legolas! Are you well?” Glorfindel approached his young apprentice with worry attached to his features. “Yes, Master, Prince Thranduil and Prince Thorin attended to my wounds while I was unconscious.”

“What is that you have there?” Bard finally spoke his black eyes narrowing at the sight of the wolf, his hand moving immediately to the hilt of his sword. “What kind of creature is this?”

“His name is Beleg and Prince Legolas almost sacrificed his life to save him.” Thorin stepped forward placing himself beside Legolas, the tension was palpable when both King and Prince face each other with the matching frown on their foreheads.

“You name a beast such as this? Look at it; it is obvious warg blood runs through its veins.” Bard shook his head. “This hunting has cost many lives and many wounded, Prince Legolas amongst them.”

“It’s a cub. He can’t protect himself.” Thorin replied. “I am well aware of the death and the wounded, King Bard. But, I couldn’t let those beasts take Prince Legolas or even little Beleg over here.”

Bard took a deep breath trying to calm himself a little, his frustration regarding the situation with Thranduil and Thorin was reaching a breaking point. He couldn’t stop his dark thoughts of both Princes getting closer, of Thranduil giving in whatever kind of charm this Dwarven-Prince could possess; because it was obvious to him Prince Thorin was already enchanted by the Elven-Prince and Thranduil didn’t seem far from being charmed by Thorin.

“Of course not, I wouldn’t imply your actions were uncalled for. However, it was a luck this beast didn’t call upon his kin, it could have been dangerous for the three of you if you were attacked by what was left of the pack.” Bard retorted trying to gain some sense of control over the conversation. “Why not disposed of him instead of putting it a name? An hybrid such as this should be put down instead of being kept as a pet.”

“No one is going to touch Beleg, King Bard.” Legolas chimed in frowning at the man. “I saved his life, he is my friend and he will come with me. You need not to worry, if his cries call upon his kin I’ll take care of them.”

Bard shook his head he opened his mouth to speak when Oín squealed indignantly approaching Legolas gravelly waving his hands away.

“You lad! How can you stand like that while carrying those wounds?” Oin shook his head pointing to a log on the ground. “Sit! Sit right now or so help me Mahal I will make you sit! I’m going to look over those wounds. Now, Prince Legolas I won’t take a no for an answer.”

The conversation seemed to have been cut by the quick intervention of the Dwarven healer, Oin winked at Legolas who hid his smile away while the dwarf took the bandages mumbling what he was about to do while the rest of the company stood rather uncomfortably.  Bard looked over at the wolf with mistrust, then straightened up to face Thorin.

“The wolf is coming with us, King Bard. I thank you for your concern but, if something is to happen, I think we can deal with it.” Thorin spoke clearly and firmly, the man clenched his jaw nodding curtly.

“Very well.” Bard tilted his head finding Thranduil staring at him.

“What happened after we got separated?” Thranduil approached the King speaking softly.

“We dispatched the last of the wargs. We heard you scream but couldn’t come to your help until it was too late, by the time we reached the bottom of the cliff you were gone and night had already fallen.” Bard didn’t care many eyes were on them, he made sure Thranduil understood his anguish when the thought of losing Thranduil crossed his mind.

Thranduil tensed lifting his chin, “Prince Thorin reacted fast. It is thanks to him Legolas and I are well.”

“Then I should thank Prince Thorin for his wit and bravery.” Bard answered boldly, Thorin clenched his fists turning away. “Even if you two allow such a dangerous creature to roam near you.”

“Beleg is not dangerous.” Thorin interrupted suddenly standing very close to Thranduil, his eyes gleaming dangerously at the King. “I will appreciate it, King Bard, if you stop saying such things. The only dangerous thing he did was lick Prince Legolas face and almost kill his boots.”

Bard regarded Thorin with the same warning in his eyes, “This isn’t a laughing matter, Prince Thorin. Prince Thranduil was in danger, all of you were. He will grow and then, what?”

“Then Prince Legolas, me and even Prince Thranduil will deal with this in Erebor.” Thorin retorted. “This is, after all, where he is going to be living. With us, he is now a part of the family.”

Glorfindel glanced at Bilbo and Bilbo stared at him back, most of the company were scouting the surrounding area which was a relief so no one could see this building tension amongst their leaders. Bard gritted his teeth looking up at Thranduil but the Elven-Prince had his arms crossed furrowing his brows while staring at Thorin then at Bard.

“Let’s make peace now, King Bard.” Thorin finally said. “I do not wish to keep discussing this, over all, if you and I know this has nothing to do with the cub. Now, if you excuse me, Bilbo, come with me.”

Thranduil lifted his eyes to see Glorfindel quirking a brow at him, the Elven-Prince understood the message tilting his head to regard Bard who was looking at him rather tiredly.

“Come with me.” Thranduil finally said turning around and walking away from the group, Bard swallowed wishing Thranduil didn’t have so much power over him. Still, he followed him hating the growing hope and wariness in his heart.

To the other side, Thorin was walking rather fast mumbling while Bilbo tried to follow him. They finally stopped and Thorin dropped to the ground huffing while closing his eyes. He didn’t need them open to now Bilbo sat down beside him staring at him with his prying eyes. Thorin opened a single eye to see Bilbo arching a brow at him.

“You need to tell him.” The Hobbit finally said, Thorin snorted shaking his head.

“Sometimes I hate how much you know me. It’s like having Dís here with me.” Thorin watched the soft red forming on the Hobbit’s full cheekbones at the mention of his sister.

“I’m merely mentioning something that must be done.” Bilbo leaned forward shooting Thorin a concerned stare. “I never thought it possible, you know? But now I think Lady Dís was right.”

Thorin shifted turning his head away, “What good would it do? It would cause nothing but trouble.”

“It could be the beginning of something nice. It could be a chance to happiness, Thorin.”

“He doesn’t need this, he doesn’t need me.” Thorin remarked rather bitterly, Bilbo and Thorin lifted their heads hearing sounds in the distance. There amongst the trees moving away from the spot they were sitting; Thranduil and Bard appeared walking down the road disappearing through the density of the forest.

Bilbo turned to Thorin whose face fell, his hands playing with the dirt on the ground, “He has made his choice, Master Baggins. I don’t think it wise or even dignified to keep chasing an impossible dream.”

Bilbo thought this was turning rather dramatically; he wished Thorin wasn’t so stubborn or insecure about his own worthiness. Not for the first time, Bilbo cursed Thráin and his poor parenting skills that lead Thorin to believe he shouldn’t fight for this, for making him believed love was not something meant for him. But the Hobbit knew he had lived amongst dwarves long enough to know this was more than a simple infatuation, even Dís had noticed it but decided to not mention it to Thorin before leaving.  Bilbo hesitated for a moment; he looked around before leaning in closer to his friend.

“Thorin,” Bilbo’s voice was but a whisper, seriousness decorating his chubby features. Thorin furrowed his brows leaning closer to hear him better. “Thorin, had you…I’m going to tell you this but you have to promise not to overreact or act all dramatic and such.”

“I do not do such a thing, Master Baggins.” Thorin rolled his eyes but at the pointed look coming from the Hobbit Thorin grumbled. “Very well, I promise to not overreact or be dramatic. What is it?”

Bilbo took a deep breath looking directly into his best friend, “Thorin, had you considered, perhaps, Prince Thranduil may be your One?”

*****

All around them was a mixture of grey, white, dark green and brown; the cold was still present in the atmosphere but the sun was also trying to bring warm to the earth. Everything was silent but the muffled conversation coming from the camp nearby.  Thranduil had kept on walking until he stopped right beside a huge tree, his lips curling in a smile while he remembered how much he had liked this forest. Bard stood a few feet away from him, his black eyes contemplating the form of the Elven-Prince engulfed in hunting gear with two quivers on his back, two bows and two swords, King Bard was sure he had seen these on the brother he never knew about. What else he didn’t know about Thranduil? What else did Thorin know about him?

Approaching the Elven-Prince with care, Bard made sure to stand right beside him, his warm breath caressing the expose curve of a white neck. Thranduil shivered lowering his stare feeling uncomfortable as he had never felt before in the presence of Bard.

“Are you going to face me or are you going to present your back to me?” Bard spoke softly, reverently while his trembling hands grasp those of the Elven-Prince.

Thranduil turned around letting go of the man’s hands stepping away, Bard’s expression fell but he didn’t make any attempt to get closer to Thranduil. The Elven-Prince wondered when had his lust for this man turned into a warning inside his head, when did all the physical need had gone and turned into an act of treachery. It was absurd, he didn’t understand why being close to Bard felt as treason, treason to whom?

 _Thorin…_ His mind whispered to which Thranduil could only scowl before shutting down his thoughts.

“I’m going to face you one last time, Bard, because I want to say good-bye properly.” Thranduil wished things had turned out differently between them; he could see the broken heart in those black eyes. “We couldn’t say it last time, but I think it is time we do.”

Even if he wanted it, Bard couldn’t look away. He stood frozen in front of the elf that held his heart and soul. Bard lifted his hand unable to stop himself from touching those features; if this was a good-bye he wanted to, at least, have the memory of his smooth skin under his fingertips.

“I do not want to part from you in enmity.” Thranduil continued containing himself from flinching away from the touch. “Whether you believe me or not, I mean it when I told you I consider you a dear friend.”

“It breaks my heart every time you say this.” Bard finally spoke in soft tones of defeat. “I do not believe myself capable of being near you and not wanting to touch you, to kiss you, to love you.”

Thranduil went to speak when Bard stopped him with a simple gesture, “Please, let me finish.”

Thranduil nodded while his eyes shifted to the hand now cupping his cheek.

“I do not think I should be closed to you in the near future but, if friendship is all you can offer then friendship is all I’m going to take.” Bard finally said each word taking a great effort.

“It was never my intention to hurt you.” Thranduil said clasping his own hand around the King’s wrist.

“I know.” Bard nodded his black eyes looking deep into those blue orbs. “Do you love him?”

The question caught both males by surprised; Bard couldn’t stop the question from leaving his mouth it had never been his intention to ask such a thing. He didn’t need any confirmation of the Elven-Prince’s feelings; this would only bring more bitterness to his already broken heart. Still, there was a need to know deep inside him, it was a need to know what Thorin had done that Bard hadn’t to win Thranduil’s heart.

Thranduil from his part was contemplating the question with care and wariness. Love was such a strong word, it held so much meaning and emotion he was scared to even consider this accursed feeling could be taking home in his heart again. Now Thranduil only believe in one form of love and that was the love he held for Legolas. However, as he thought this, something inside him stirred making his heart beat a tad bit faster at the thought of Thorin Oakenshield and what could mean for them to actually fall into the trap of love.

“This has nothing to do with my feelings towards Prince Thorin.” Thranduil finally said creasing his brows. “Love is not amongst my plans, only the well-being of my Kingdom and my family.”

Bard wished those words were true; he wished this could be simpler. The man gave Thranduil a force smile.

“I think this has everything to do with your feelings towards Prince Thorin.” Bard felt the need to say more and thus he spoke before he could control himself. “I wish I know what he did that I didn’t to win your heart.”

“He didn’t…He hadn’t…” Thranduil sputtered with some indignation, he tried to move away from Bard but the man stopped him before he could walk away.

“I’m sorry this is…it’s my jealousy speaking, I don’t…”

“This is why we can’t keep doing this, Bard.” Thranduil said firmly, he placed his hands around the wrist of the man moving away. “Tell me we can still be friends, when you are ready.”

“We can. We will.” Was all Bard could say dropping his arms to his sides. He thought this meeting would turn out differently and still a part of him knew this could only end in one way.

Thranduil bowed his head placing his right hand on his heart as a way to say good-bye; the Elven-Prince was caught by surprised when Bard’s lips pressed against his. The kiss was quick, needy and everything that had meant their relationship in the past. Bard moved away giving one shaking smile at the Elven-Prince before turning and walking away.

The Elven-Prince massaged his temple wondering what the future would bring after this, his conversation with Bard was something he should have done a long time ago but decided to postpone in favour of his own selfish needs. Now, he just hoped they could really build an honest friendship after this. Thranduil soon buried all his thoughts when his traitorous mind tried to wring back the question regarding Thorin. This was something he didn’t need right now; Thranduil walked towards the camp never noticing the hidden form of Prince Thorin who had been just in time to be a witness of the kiss and the silent good-bye.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

They weren’t expecting an attack in the middle of the night.

Winter was starting to recede, but the cold was still present and the dwarves and men of the Land of Khand were sleeping peacefully in their homes by the time night was already old. The city rested at the shore of the Sea of Rhûn, a great lake that went beyond their sight that joined the rivers coming from Erebor and the Iron Hills in a single stream only to move forward down the river that met with the Anduin. It was a great extension of water, the veins of Middle Earth, but only housed two different cities: Khand and the elven city of Dorwinion.  While everyone knew the city of Khand, there wasn’t much someone could say about Dorwinion; the elves of these parts of the world were more secluded, more secretive but as good people as their kin on the other side of Arda.

Khand only counted with a single defence system: a deep fringe filled with water and oil and three different bridges linking the city with the main land. It had been more than two hundredth years since an army or bandits or any other dangerous threat had dared to attack the city, thus no one was really expecting danger to call upon their doors in the middle of the night.  

Lord Orik ran down the streets with his Dwarrows close behind, the fires were consuming the northern entrance of the city, warriors and common folk all armed themselves with buckets of water to control the fires. The screams of people being attacked and others being consumed by the flames filled the city, blood and dead were surrounding the inhabitants of Khand. The confusion was great as Lord Orik looked around with his sword at the ready putting down the orcs or wargs he found on his way.

“To arms! To arms!” Orik screamed while guiding a small militia down the streets all of them crashing against the orcs in fierce battle, the swords and the axes came clashing with sparks against the scimitars of the orcs.

Orik turned to his left lifting his arm while crashing the skull of an orc; it took them most of the night and part of the dawn to finally have the city back in their power. The dead orcs were put in a pyre outside the city, the wounded were being attended in the house of the governor while the rest of the people were trying to extinguish the fires and recover their dead friends and family.

Lord Orik sat down wearing a nasty cut on his head, his sword had broken when he repealed the last attack to the gate. To his side his grandson was giving him a debriefing of what had happened to the rest of the city. All around him he could sense the tension and the questions unasked, why they were attack? Why now? What they were going to do now?

“Grandfather, there is…there is something else.” Orik’s grandson said shifting from one foot to the other. Lord Orik sighed looking over at his grandson with the years marking his features.

“What is it?”

“We just found the bodies of the messenger from Lord Dáin Ironfoot. They are dead, the message you sent to the last camping mine where he was doing the inspection…It never got there.” The young dwarf looked around leaning in. “People is not happy, grandfather. They are speaking about how this wouldn’t have happened if King Thráin had listened to you, they are whispering about how the King took everything and abandon us to our luck.”

Orik lowered his gaze knowing these words to be only a part of the truth, they had sent what King Thráin asked almost emptying the production of the city but the help or the payment never came. Orik had trusted the Prince but it seemed as if either the Prince didn’t care or the King really wasn’t listening to anyone. Lord Orik stood up placing a hand on his grandson’s shoulder, the news about Dáin being in the mine deep inside the wild of the eastern shore of the Sea of Rhûn was something to be concerned about. Dáin was the only ally Khand had that was still part of the Royal family of Erebor, Orik didn’t want to think what could happen if something were to happen to the Lord of the Iron Hills.

“What are we going to do?”

“For now, we need to tend to the wounded, bury the dead and be ready for I do not believe this would be the last attack.” Orik moved past some guards towards the Raven tower. “I will send word to Erebor and, if they refuse to help, we can declare ourselves free of our obligations with Erebor. I won’t let our people suffer through this without the resources to get back on their feet.”

“Yes, sir.” The young dwarf pursed his lips slightly worried, he glanced at his grandfather a part of him fearing the rage of King Thráin, but there was another part of him that understood what his grandfather was doing. Paying homage to Erebor had cost them greatly and they had gained nothing but suffering.

“Narog, I want to get our best warriors watching over the city and be at the ready.” Lord Orik commanded. “We will wait for an answer from Erebor, if nothing comes then I will send you and these warriors towards the mines to see if Lord Dáin is faring well.”

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

The road back home was equally silent and tense as their trip to the forest.

Thranduil would try to engage Thorin in conversation only to be refused time and time again by a very grumpy and upset Thorin. The Elven-Prince wondered what had happened for this sudden change of attitude but he came out without a satisfactory answer. Thranduil soon felt frustrated when Thorin seemed to act normal around everyone including Legolas and Bilbo whereas his whole demeanour changed into a cold façade when addressing him.

No one dare to intervene or venture to say something for all of the presents had been equally baffled by this.  Thranduil would sometimes establish conversation with Glorfindel, Balin, Oin and even Bilbo but Thorin always seemed to find an excused to not get include in these conversations. It was getting rather frustrating and the Elven-Prince was awaiting anxiously their return to Erebor where he could just walk away and hide in the mountain so as to not feel this strange sting in his heart at Thorin’s rejection.

Almost a week later, Thorin and his company along with Prince Legolas, Prince Thranduil and Captain Glorfindel arrived to Erebor after such an eventful hunting trip. The news they brought with them were worrisome and need to be dealt with immediately, but afternoon was already falling and Thorin thought it pertinent to present himself before his father and the council early in the morning.

 As soon as they arrived surrounded by some townspeople greeting them with love and interested, Thorin saw Fundin approaching them.

“My Prince, it is good to see you, all of you well after such a long trip.” Fundin bowed waiting for Dwalin, Balin and Thorin to approach him, the rest were getting the ponies and the horses away dismounting some of the baggage and packages. Thranduil was arguing with Legolas on the wisdom behind sleeping with Beleg on the bed, Glorfindel watching rather amused at the sight of yet another pet Thranduil couldn’t deny his son.

“It was a rather productive trip, Lord Fundin. Something I will share with the council tomorrow.” Thorin eyed the Lord in front of him, Fundin was trying to look relaxed but his eyes were hard as steel and the wrinkles around his eyes were more notorious.  

“I know my Prince must be tired and wished to retire to his quarters but, would it be too much to ask council with you and Prince Thranduil?”

Thorin was startled at the request; he tilted his head to see Thranduil still arguing with Legolas when he returned his attention to Fundin. The Lord quirked a brow much like Balin would do to him when there was something they couldn’t discuss in public, Thorin nodded briefly pointing to the mountain.

“I believe, Lord Fundin, it has been a while since I last visit Gilda.” Thorin said Fundin smiled nodding.

“Of course, my Prince, she will receive you gladly.” Fundin eyed his sons nodding to the mountain. “I will wait for the both of you then, Prince Thorin.”

“Don’t worry, I will go over there and…talk to Prince Thranduil.” Thorin waved his hand vaguely to the elf feeling suddenly very awkward at having to seek the elf after having ignored him for more than three days.

Thranduil sensed eyes on him, looking out of the corner of his eyes he noticed Thorin staring at him while scratching his beard. Thranduil furrowed his brows but soon concealed his emotions behind a stone façade with gleaming cold eyes, Thorin called to him approaching him while making sure they were left alone. Before Thranduil could call upon his son and Glorfindel both elves had scattered away not without shooting Thranduil a meaningful stare, they knew Thranduil had been annoyed and rather hurt at Thorin’s indifference. Well, the dwarf in question was now approaching him; it was time for Thranduil to just be directed with him and voiced his discomfort.

“Oh, Prince Thorin, I didn’t notice you there.” Thranduil sneered looking way above Thorin’s head, Thorin tensed shooting a quick glare to the elf.

“I need to tell you something.” Thorin started not being able to finish when Thranduil scoffed at him lifting his chin.

“Now you want to talk.” Thranduil wasn’t even sure why he was trying to show his annoyance at being ignored. He supposed it was because he had gotten accustomed to Thorin talking or arguing with him, to the Dwarven-Prince to be by his side to make sure he didn’t feel out of place. It was such a childish feeling, but Thranduil found satisfaction at the wince of guiltiness crossing the dwarf’s face.

“I…Lord Fundin needs the both of us, I believe he needs to tell us something.” Thorin tried to explain trying to avoid the topic of him avoiding Thranduil during the trip back home.

This time around the Elven-Prince looked rather interested, he shot a quick glance to his son but he noticed Bilbo had already engaged him in conversation. Glorfindel was the only one close enough to the both of them.

“Do you know what it is he needs of us?” Thranduil questioned Thorin, the dwarf shook his head.

“No, but he usually doesn’t do such thing unless it is important.” Thorin looked back at the mountain then at Thranduil. “Look, Bilbo is going to feed everyone today, you can let them go and we will join them after this meeting.”

Thranduil nodded he went directly to Glorfindel speaking softly to his Captain before turning away and joining Thorin. Thorin and Thranduil never noticed a pair of eyes following them at a safe distance; they couldn’t have known they had been watched from the moment they arrived to Erebor.

Both Princes took the short way to the mountain entering a zone Thranduil hadn’t known until then. Right to the left side of the Royal Palace and away of the main districts of the Kingdom of Erebor was a small but well-build neighbour with houses build into the mountain giving different geometrical forms to their homes. It was a solitary path with only a couple of well-dressed dwarves walking around in the streets or resting at their homes entrance.  As soon as Thranduil got the chance to observe his surroundings, he realized this was a place where the important members of the council, the generals of the Royal Army or important members of Erebor resided. Sometimes, as they walked rather fast down the streets, Thorin would greet some well-dressed dwarves that would shoot curious glances at the both of them.

Thorin took a deep breath while placing his hands on top of his belt, glancing out of the corner of his eyes at Thranduil who was taking in the new scenery before him. The Dwarven-Prince hesitated wanting to speak about what happened in the forest; however, this would mean admitting he had been spying on Thranduil. Thorin opened his mouth to speak up yet he couldn’t bring himself to address the topic.

“Are you going to stare at me all the way or are you going to speak your mind?” Thranduil cocked a brow at him looking rather unimpressed.

Thorin scowled looking ahead while grumbling some sort of answer, embarrassed he was discovered while staring and trying to say something. They soon reached Lord Fundin’s house without any more conversation between them, frustration was starting to build inside Thranduil who could not understand this sudden tension between them. He thought they were past this but, apparently, he had been wrong.

No sooner had they arrived, a Dwarven female appeared on the hall, her eyes opening while her lips draw a beautiful smile.

“My dear Thorin, look at you!” The she-dwarf approached Thorin cupping his face looking him over with the same grin. “I thought you forgot all about me!! Look how handsome you are! I still remember when you were running around naked playing with my Dwalin.”

“Lady Gilda, please…It is a pleasure to see you again.” Thorin muttered his face burning in embarrassment when Thranduil stepped forward grinning from ear to ear.

“I believe we haven’t been introduce, Prince Thranduil, at your service.” Thranduil bowed to the she-dwarf his eyes flickering with amusement from Thorin to Gilda.

The she-dwarf narrowed her eyes at Thranduil, her lips lifting up while she too bowed respectfully to the Elven-Prince.

“I’m Lady Gilda of the House of Fundin at your service.” Gilda tilted her head wriggling her eyebrows to a very mortified Thorin. “My Prince, you sure know how to set your eyes on rather handsome prospects. Prince Thranduil, it is finally a pleasure to meet the lucky elf that would stand beside Thorin in the near future as King of Erebor.”

“I believe the pleasure is all mine, Lady Gilda. This is the first time I’ve heard someone mention Prince Thorin’s childhood.” Thranduil pressed a little trying to look completely innocent.

Gilda opened her eyes pushing both Princes deep inside her home, “Oh, no! You can’t tell me you haven’t heard of the naked adventures of Prince Thorin, my dear Dwalin and Bofur! Because, let me tell you, for some reason these three were against wearing clothes when…”

“Lady Gilda!” Thorin said again when Gilda started another rather colourful narration about Thorin’s naked adventures around the Royal Palace with Dwalin and the rest of their friends.

Gilda stopped talking blinking rather confusedly while Thranduil was beaming as if he had just gotten the best present ever. Thorin knew he wouldn’t hear the end of this as soon as they left Lord Fundin’s home.

“Mother, please. Can’t you see you are embarrassing him?!” Dwalin appeared from a side door frowning at his mother who was looking rather scandalized, Thranduil had sat down with one leg crossed enjoying the embarrassing stories about young Thorin.

“Oh, I’m so sorry dear! Here, let me ask for the tea and everything! I believe your father and Balin are waiting for you and the Princes.” Gilda then ran off to the kitchens leaving the Princes and Dwalin alone.

“Well, let’s go, father is waiting for the both of you.”

“Not a word.” Thorin grunted when Thranduil moved closer to him.

“Naked?” Thranduil finally said chuckling when Thorin shoot him a glare with the tip of his ears completely red.

“Seriously, not a word.”

“You are asking too much without giving nothing in exchange, Prince Thorin.” Thranduil smirked Thorin narrowed his eyes at him. “Perhaps I should go back to Lady Gilda and ask for more charming stories.”

“You will do not such a thing, you insufferable elf.” Thorin wrapped his hand rather alarmed around the Elf’s wrist. Thranduil stopped walking his blue eyes looking deep into Thorin’s black ones.

Thorin let go backing away, “We will talk about the price later on. Now, let us have this meeting in peace.”

Thranduil snorted moving closer to Thorin until he could lean in to whisper in the dwarf’s ear, “Whatever you say, _dear._ ”

This was the first time Prince Thranduil was in an actual Dwarven house. It certainly was different to his room or the Royal Palace. The thresholds were made of perfect lines and geometrical figures, all with the colours identified in the coat of arms of each family. Balin and Dwalin seemed to favour a dark shade of red with blue; the private study of Lord Fundin had a single oaken desk near a fireplace with three different chairs in front of it. There were three bookshelves all of them filled with either books or scrolls. Fundin stood up from his place behind the desk, he along with Dwalin and Balin bowed deeply to the Princes.

“My Lord Thorin, Prince Thranduil, welcome to my humble home.” Fundin waved his hand and the door closed behind the Princes. Fundin regarded Thranduil for a moment before indicating the chairs. “Please, sit my Princes.”

“I have to say it was a surprise for me when I hear you require my presence in here as well, Lord Fundin.” Thranduil didn’t bother with idle chat. He sat down resting his cheek on the palm of his hand while crossing his legs. “Tell me, why the secrecy?”

Fundin snickered sitting down with his brown eyes gleaming slyly at Thranduil. “Prince Thranduil is showing the sagacity and wisdom of the elves. I am happy to know you will be beside Thorin when the weight of the Throne befalls him.”

Thranduil furrowed his brows leaning back on his chair, “Thank you, although my question is still unanswered.”

“Indeed.” Fundin sighed tiredly his eyes turned then to Thorin softening his expression when he mapped out the features of the young Prince. “We received a letter two days ago from Khand. The city was attacked, many died and many more are wounded. Our help was not received and now Lord Orik had taken upon himself the governance of Khand declaring himself an independent country.”

“What? Why? What happened?” Thorin leaned forward clenching his fists. “What do you mean the help didn’t get there? I thought we have sent more dwarves to the city.”

“Your father overruled this order.” Fundin declared seriously. “He said we shouldn’t give them more than they deserved. Now, they had been attacked by a group of orcs and wargs. Thorin, tomorrow your father would seek the support of the council to attack and submit Khand.”

“He can’t…they…” Thorin sat back letting his forehead hit his hand. “This is madness; he should have given them the help they need. Why don’t we send a diplomatic mission instead of a military one?”

Fundin eyed Thorin turning his eyes to Thranduil then to his sons, “Lately, my Prince, your father has been paying more attention to the richness of his position and something…something he has been hiding in his office.”

Thorin straightened up hearing attentively to what Fundin had to say, the old dwarf stirred massaging his long, white beard.

“He told the council Mahal himself gifted him with something precious, something so unique it was a proof of his reign.” Fundin then turned his eyes to Thranduil. “He told us this was a sign he would endure the years and the millennia to see Erebor grow into a greatness not even the Kingdoms of the elves on the First Age could achieved.”

Thranduil tilted his head distressed by this; his blue eyes noticed the strange look coming from Fundin.

“You say he has been paying more attention to his richness and this object he has in his power?” Thranduil questioned, Fundin nodded briefly with a hint of sadness in his eyes. “Could it be…dragon sickness you’re speaking of?”

Fundin gave a half-smile accompanied by a nod, “Indeed, this is what me and my sons are thinking. If this is the case, Thorin you must start gaining the favour of the council and the rest of the noble families.”

Thorin felt dizzy, he was trying to understand what was being discussed but dread was filling his heart. He stared at Fundin, his father’s best friend and he could see sadness and concern there. He had noticed his father’s sudden change, he knew Thráin spent too much time in his office mumbling and acting possessive and jealous over what he thought was his. The treasure vault had become a forbidden place for anyone who wasn’t the King or his most trust advisors. And now, this?

“What is this dragon sickness?” Thorin finally asked seeking Thranduil for an answer.

“A deep desire for treasure and gold, it turns the best of men, elves or dwarves into possessive and violent creatures who held only one passion, one true love.” Thranduil mumbled staring at Thorin seriously. “Gold, or whatever they believe to be precious to them. It is usually a gem, a treasure…a necklace.”

Thorin sensed there was something else to this; he could see the stories untold in those blue eyes. A pain so deep Thorin had a sudden desire to reach out for Thranduil and give him the relief he didn’t seem to have. Thranduil found himself drawn to the Prince, a waved of comfort accompanied with protectiveness surrounded him. Without really understanding what he was feeling, Thranduil offered a weak smile to the Dwarven-Prince turning around to face Fundin and his sons.

“I don’t understand why you have called me here, Lord Fundin. What can I do?” Thorin finally said. “If it is true father is suffering from this, shouldn’t we do something?”

“Thorin, he is still King. There aren’t many that would go against his wishes unless someone of the Royal line would guide them.” Fundin lifted a hand to stop Thorin from answering back.

Gilda entered the room with a couple of servants; they placed the tea and some food on the table before leaving the office as fast as they had come. Everyone took their cups drinking their tea while sharing the same restless silence.

“I know what it looks like; it seems as if I’m betraying my best friend. My brother.” Fundin finally said. “It is far from the true. I want to save him, I think a time away from the Throne, from the power may help cure this, to perhaps return him to the same good dwarf he was once. But for this, we need you to be ready and take upon the Throne, people already loves you and many council members have a high regard of you.”

Thranduil noticed the tensing coming from Balin, Dwalin and Thorin. Somehow, Thranduil thought the three of them didn’t quite agree with Fundin and his assessment of Thráin, but no one contradicted the dwarf.

“Someone must take care of the business of the Kingdom paying attention to everyone instead of focusing in only the finances or the gold filling the vaults.” Fundin leaned forward. “As soon as we found about Khand, we all have the same thought. Diplomatic measures should be used before restoring to the military ones. If you can get this situation under control then the council would happily show his support to you and ask King Thráin to abdicate.”

Thorin felt the weight of these words deep inside his heart; he knew he thought about this before. But to actually have Fundin saying it and probably forming a strategy to help him out was too much. Thorin wanted what was best for Erebor and his people, but he couldn’t help the sense of guiltiness at the betrayal he would orchestrate against his own father.

“What can we do then? Father won’t budge so easily.” Thorin replied. “But I agree with you, this situation must be put under control before it turns into something worse.”

“Lord Orik seemed to believe you were an approachable help.” Dwalin chimed in.

“Look how well I did.” Thorin clenched his fists in frustration.

“You can’t expect to control everything, Thorin. Ruling a Kingdom it is rather hard as it is without you feeling guilty.” Thranduil looked at Fundin. “If what Dwalin says is true then Thorin must go to Khand. He will need this army but not to fight them instead they would stay there to provide the protection Khand asked for, am I right?”

“Yes, if Prince Thorin goes as an ambassador to calm things down then this whole business would end with a pacific resolution.” Fundin shot Thranduil an impress look. “This is the reason, Prince Thranduil, as to why I want you here. In a few months you and Prince Thorin would be joined in marriage you should know what is happening in the Kingdom for you to be an ideal consort and King to Thorin and Erebor.”

Thranduil went rigid his eyes flickering to Thorin then to Fundin, he wanted to say something but found himself out of words.

“I believe this is the best course of action.” Thorin broke the uncomfortable silence his eyes focused on his empty cup. “Tomorrow at the meeting I will ask for this, I believe father would be glad to get rid of me and the chance to get this solve peacefully.”

“This is why I want to talk to you before the meeting, Thorin.” Fundin said smiling fondly at the Prince. “There is one more thing, though; you will need to take Prince Thranduil with you.”

Balin would have laugh at the astound expression both Princes were wearing, each one them couldn’t hide the sudden panic filling their eyes only to try and cover it up showing a rather tense and impassive face. Thorin didn’t even dare to look at Thranduil, this trip was a four day trip and doing it with Thranduil would mean he could not run away or avoid the Elven-Prince like he had been doing since the Long Forest. Thranduil for his part was trying to decipher why this affect him so much, why did he feel so unsettle and anxious to travel alongside Thorin to a far city; like Lord Fundin had said, if he was to be a King to this place he would need to learn more about them. Besides, Thranduil was starting to realize what was happening in Erebor should be reported to King Oropher thus he needed to be there to assess the situation.

“Why would I have to go?” Thranduil finally asked to which Fundin centred his attention on Prince Thorin then on Thranduil.

“I do not know how much you know about Dwarven costumes, Prince Thranduil. Or why Prince Thorin and not King Thráin became your fiancé.” Fundin started talking with a business like voice making sure what he was about to say could be understood without making Thráin look like a monster, it still hurt him to see the transformation on his friend watching him slip away into something no one could understand completely.

“When a dwarf marries he does it for live, our costumes forbid us of getting involved in another marriage unless we meet our One.” Fundin smiled suddenly looking over at Balin and Dwalin. “I was fortunate enough to meet my One and get marry to her, even if at the very beginning we couldn’t stand each other. I believe your sister, Prince Thorin, was fortunate as well.”

Thranduil didn’t even stir; he was listening to this with attention as Fundin spoke about the long conversations held in the council chamber. At first, Thráin had been eager to propose his son for this engagement, he wasn’t overly eager to get involve with an elf and besides, Erebor costumes didn’t allow him another marriage. However, lately Thráin had been sharing pieces of disturbing conversation regarding Prince Thranduil and how Thráin was more deserving of this union than Thorin. Fundin spoke clearly trying to justify Thráin’s actions while blaming the sickness in the King; but to everyone in the room it was evident it was more than this.

Thranduil changed his position in the chair his face an unreadable mask while he mused over this information.

“You have mentioned this _One_ ; I think I heard of this before. Is it only a romantic liaison amongst Dwarves?” Thranduil questioned his emotions stirring deep inside him, a mixture of curiosity, apprehension and something he wasn’t quite sure it was completely his, something akin to sadness. Thranduil furrowed his brows trying to understand why he felt such an emotion.

“It is not necessary, though many build a friendship with their One before ending up in a deep romantic relationship.” Fundin explained. “This individual doesn’t even need to be a Dwarf.  We called it our One, but I believe your race would call it a soul-mate.”

Thranduil lowered his gaze while Fundin continued speaking. “Your father, Prince Thorin, married your mother because she was his One, not only did he married her he also joined his life with his mate. To get into another marriage would be sacrilege; he would lose respect from everyone. But lately, whatever he has hidden in his office it has given him the confidence to change the laws.”

Balin saw realization hitting the Elven-Prince with the force of the implications behind his father’s words. Thorin paled closing his fists while furrowing his brows, his beard trembling with the silent rage filling his mind. Fundin sighed massaging his forehead and for the very first time ever Balin saw tiredness in his father’s features. Of all the council dwarves, Fundin had always been the closest to Thráin, they had been best friends from a very early age much like Dwalin and Balin had been to Thorin.

“My father didn’t honour her, she…” Thorin hated how his voice trembled as he spoke while memories filled his mind. He had seen the love in his mother, how she had fallen under her own feelings while his father mistreated her until it consumed her. “He is really mad if he thinks I will, that I’m going to allow…”

Thorin trailed off, to say what he wanted to say would be admitting what he had been feeling for the Elven-Prince sitting right beside him. No one, especially Thranduil, needed to know just how pathetic and how sentimental he was.

“I know.” Fundin finally said smiling a little. “Because I’ve been near your father all this time and, recently, with his talks about being a King for a thousand years and believing himself designated by Mahal to be King Under the Mountain. I do not know how long would it take for him to act on his own desires…”

Thranduil felt dizzy he wrapped his hands around the armrest of the chair, his blue eyes looking over at Fundin with disbelief written on his face. It was pretty obvious to Thranduil Fundin knew all about him, about Thranduil and what could it mean for a mortal to _mate_ with him. Thorin stirred in his own chair when a wave of desperation and helplessness reached his mind, he furrowed his brows confused at such feelings overwhelming his senses. If he were to concentrate enough, he would say it was anger more than anything what he was feeling. Still puzzle, Thorin turned to Thranduil to see those blue eyes gleaming with unshed tears of anger, trembling under the implications in the conversation they were having.

“I will take Thranduil with me then, if you are agreeable to the idea.” Thorin said firmly while addressing the Elven-Prince. “I can also make up an excuse and…you can go to Esgaroth. Whatever you desire.”

Fundin observed the interaction with interest, he couldn’t understand why Thorin was proposing Esgaroth instead of the Woodland Realm but it was rather obvious Prince Thranduil understood. The Elven-Prince opened his eyes turning to Thorin his face unreadable as the both of them engage in a staring contest. Fundin couldn’t help but smile, even amongst this disaster, it was good to see Thorin was finally finding his way away from his father’s clutches. He was so much like his mother, Fundin could only hope this situation would solve without any misfortune.

Thranduil lowered his gaze turning his face away from Thorin, “Lord Fundin is right, if I am to be of any use to you in the near future I need to know how the Kingdom and your people work. I will go with you.”

The only sound filling the room was that coming from the flames in the fireplace. Thorin should feel content Thranduil chose to go with him, but knowing this was something out of duty more than anything else only made him a little bit miserable.  He stood up approaching the desk, his black eyes looking downcast and tired.

“Is there anything else you will like to tell me, Lord Fundin? I believe the trip is finally getting to me.” Thorin couldn’t help his puzzlement when Fundin chuckled lifting a single eyebrow at him.

“There is only one more thing, something I think it may please you and improve your mood.” Fundin shoot Thranduil a quick glance before returning his attention to Thorin. “The task you commission two weeks ago is done. Everything is ready for you now Prince Thorin.”

 

*****

Thranduil was utterly baffled by the sudden change of mood in Thorin.

He was starting to think the Dwarven-Prince change moods at an erratic rate and he kept on wondering how Thorin could do it with such freedom and ease. Thorin walked fast down the streets towards the Royal Palace refusing to say anything to Thranduil who was trying to keep up while making questions.

They reached the back of the Royal Palace in less than fifteen minutes, but before Thorin could enter the place Thranduil placed his hands on the dwarf’s shoulders turning him around to face him.

“Are you going to explain to me what are we doing here? Or are you going to make me run after you again?” Thranduil sounded rather annoyed his eyes piercing Thorin for answers.

Thorin lifted his face his black eyes gleaming with satisfaction, there was also a hint of embarrassment and Thranduil was left perplex all over again.

“I have a gift for you.” Thorin finally said unable to hide his excitement, Thranduil blinked trying to keep his serious façade, to still be angry at the Dwarf for dragging him all through the mountain to the back of the Royal Palace, especially after the conversation they held with Lord Fundin.

“A gift?” Thranduil hesitated not even sure how he should take this sudden gesture; he narrowed his eyes at Thorin wondering if perhaps the cheerfulness coming from Thorin could be some kind of joke. “What kind of gift? Why?”

“Stop looking at me like that, it’s nothing bad.” Thorin huffed indignantly, Thranduil opened his mouth but Thorin stopped him. “It’s a gift; you know the concept, right? Those are a surprise, if I tell you it won’t longer be a surprise.”

“You can tell me, gifts aren’t necessary surprises.” Thranduil retorted stubbornly.

“Come, it will be better if I show you.” Thorin stopped at the service door turning towards a still reluctant Thranduil.

“Why?” Thranduil asked again suddenly noticing this was the first time they were alone or that Thorin had such a gesture with him.

Thorin hesitated, “Because I want to.”

The simplicity of the answer caught Thranduil by surprised, the Elven-Prince saw as Thorin disappeared behind the service door leaving him behind. Forgetting about his doubts, his feelings or the implications behind what they were doing Thranduil followed Thorin.  Ten minutes later, Thorin was grinning while Thranduil shoot daggers at him cleaning up his clothes and fixing his blond hair.

“I surely hope this gift is worth making me crawl down those stairs to this hall.” Thranduil grumbled as dignified as he could. Thorin remained wisely shut for Thranduil seemed to really hate the road they had taken. If he was to be honest, Thorin forgot the service entrance was only meant for Dwarves and not Elves but the Elven-prince had been rather inventive to keep up with Thorin.

“I promise you.” Thorin said with his lips forming a smile, Thranduil narrowed his eyes at Thorin before lifting his stare.

“This looks idly familiar.” Thranduil arched an unimpressed brow at Thorin, “Don’t tell me the surprise is in your room?”

Thorin sputtered indignantly at the suggestion behind Thranduil’s voice, the Elven-Prince smirked enjoying the faltering behind Thorin.

“No! It’s…come, there is only one more set of stairs.” Thorin made his way down the hall with Thranduil complaining behind him all the way to another door hidden behind a tapestry made with the image of Thorin, Frerin and Dís.

Thorin put the tapestry away showing a wooden door, he took a silver key from his pockets opening it to reveal a set of darkened stairs. Thranduil crossed his arms shooting an incredulous stare to the dwarf beside him.

“You won’t convince me to go up there.” Thranduil leaned forward before stepping back. “Is it even safe? Is it even made for me to walk?”

“Ugh, would you stop complaining? I promise you will be capable of walking without any trouble and…” Here Thorin trailed off, he shifted slightly and Thranduil soon found rather endearing the timidity Thorin would try to conceal behind his confidence.

When Thorin couldn’t finish his sentence because he was trying to look for the right words to justify this trip, Thranduil chuckled decided to not give Thorin more trouble, even if he was still hurt after being ignored by him.

“Let’s go, then. Before you start stuttering and pretend you know what you are doing.”

“I don’t stutter!” Thorin replied rather energetically. “And I always know where we are going.”

Thranduil smirked moving ahead of Thorin up into the dark stairs leading to some place up into the mountain. It didn’t take them long to reach the top of the stairs and find themselves in front of another door, Thorin moved past Thranduil bumping into the elf while pressing their bodies together. For a brief moment, neither Thorin nor Thranduil moved both of them finding themselves in a very awkward situation. Thorin cleared his throat apologizing while he proceeded to move forward, his hand trembling while opening the door that lead to another hall.

Thranduil looked around only to find the hall, another set of stairs that seemed to be well-illuminated and a couple of doors all through the hall. Thorin, however, moved to the farthest one. With a shaky smile, Thorin opened the door indicating with a gesture of his hands for Thranduil to enter the room.

Thranduil’s breath caught in his throat when his eyes fell upon the room. Around him everything remained him of the colours of his forest, the decorations were made to resemble the Woodland Realm ad any other elven decoration. Thranduil entered what seemed to be a living room with a silver fireplace, golden chairs, green walls and wooden furniture; Thranduil broke into a content smile when he realized there were vines smelling like lilies and chrysanthemums, he walked in a dream while his fingertips brushed against every single surface in the room. The Elven-Prince approached another room, his eyes going wide at the sight of the bed with silken bed sheets and equally high-quality bedspread, all his things had been organized inside a white wardrobe and his room smell like the forest. Earthly and homely.

“There is only one more thing.” Thorin startled him appearing from behind walking rather confidently to another door made entirely of glass. With curiosity filling his heart, Thranduil follow the Dwarven-Prince and soon he was baffled at the sight before him.

The door led to a balcony from where the world and the sky spread in a mixture of beauty and starlight firmament. It was then Thranduil realized they were at the highest point in the mountain with fresh air filling his lungs and cold air brushing against his heated skin. The Elven-Prince took a few steps towards the rail looking the world spreading at his feet. He lifted his face and his blue eyes soon filled with the sight of the stars twinkling merrily above his head.

Thorin watched him mesmerized, his heart stopping at the sight of a sincere smile drawing on the beautiful features of the Elven-Prince. Thorin stood there watching Thranduil while Thranduil stood watching the night sky. Soon, Thranduil tilted his head and blue eyes found themselves staring into black ones.

“Why?” Thranduil finally asked shakily.

Thorin tore his eyes away from Thranduil standing beside the Elven-Prince while leaning in to watch the world under their feet. For a brief moment, a fear like no other gripped Thranduil’s heart at how close to the edge Thorin was; Thranduil took a calming breath when Thorin merely smiled at him without any hint of danger in his features.

“This was supposed to be your home after our engagement was announced.” Thorin spoke clearly suddenly feeling rather liberate standing beside the elf. “I was really mad at you, I thought I hate you. Thus, I decided to make the caverns your home. Those are only meant for…well, for driving you crazy, I suppose.”

Thranduil nodded snorting, “It was driving me crazy. I felt trap, it was a dark and solitary place, I hated you for it.”

Thorin smirked, “That was the idea. Then, I got to know you and I realized you weren’t as bad as I thought you to be. After the Winter Festival I started organizing everything to make this your new home. Yours and Legolas and Captain Glorfindel, the rest of your guard has already been given their rooms on the floor below us.”

Thranduil was left speechless he stared down at Thorin who soon stirred rather uncomfortably under the intense stare from the elf. Never before had anyone done something like this for him, Thranduil realized Thorin always did something to surprise him or to contradict whatever he thought about him. Whatever had happened the last couple of days, whatever they had converse about with Lord Fundin and all the other problems surrounding them; Thranduil could say with certainty this place with Thorin right beside him made him feel at ease.

“I don’t know what to say. How to thank you…” Thranduil started leaning closer to a very distracted Thorin.

“Don’t be an idiot, you don’t have to thank me. This…I mean, I did it with pleasure.” Thorin shrugged when he turned back his attention to Thranduil he jerked back finding the face of the elf too close to his own. “Wha-What are you doing?”

“I was going to thank you.” Thranduil said his lips drawing a mischievous smile.

Thorin opened his eyes taking a step back when Thranduil leaned closer, “You…you don’t have to. I already told you.”

“I know, but I want to thank you, Prince Thorin.” Thranduil made a reproving sound, his eyes gleaming amusedly. “When someone wants to thank you, you shouldn’t reject them.”

“Something tells me, this kind of thanks I should avoid.” Thorin replied feeling his cheeks warming up; his heart was beating fast while his abdomen filled with tingling and fluttering making him apprehensive of what could happen.

“Why? Haven’t you experienced this before?” Thranduil didn’t know what was happening to him, he threw any common sense out of the balcony when he realized everything Thorin had done to this place to make it feel like home. The Elven-Prince felt the sudden need to feel those bearded lips against his, if only for a moment. He felt the need to thank Thorin for being there, for…for making him feel again.

“Of course I have!” Thorin replied rather indignantly, he then shook his head taking another step back cursing when his back hit the rail. Thranduil chuckled but his features softened, his blue eyes stared sincerely at Thorin.

“Then, what are you afraid of? It is only a thank you, nothing else.” Thranduil tried to sound rather casual, but he soon realized his own words sounded painful to him. Something changed, something happened and Thranduil was getting out of excuses to deny what was happening between himself and the Dwarven-Prince.

“If you do this, Prince Thranduil…I don’t think I can stop myself from doing something you and I will regret.” Thorin said furrowing his brows conscious of how much he was revealing with this. Thranduil lifted his eyebrows in surprised; he stared at Thorin for a long time before forgoing any common sense and pressing his lips against Thorin’s.

Thorin opened his eyes feeling the pressure of those warm lips against his, it was for a brief moment in which the Dwarven-Prince saw Thranduil closed his eyes smiling contentedly. Thranduil fluttered his eyes open to stare at Thorin, his breath caught on his throat at the intensity behind Thorin’s stare. The Dwarven-Prince swallowed shaking his head before placing his hand around the back of Thranduil’s neck and crashing their lips together. Their lips joined in another kiss, this one deeper and more sloppy and inexperienced, Thranduil sighed giving into the need behind Thorin’s kiss. The kiss ended as sudden as it had started.

Thranduil realized he was breathing hard, his lips part slightly while his eyes darkened at the burning fire he felt inside his heart. The kiss had left him wanting more, needing more while Thorin was staring at him with big, shocked eyes. Before Thranduil could do or say anything, Thorin turned around and left. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter finally has some Thorinduil interaction, I really hope you like it and that it didn't look force at all. This was necessary because Thorin and Thranduil are going to face some unexpected situations in the future. Next chapter we will know what Thráin is thinking, Dol-Guldur starts extending their influences in the King Under the Mountain and Thranduil saves Thorin's live.


	10. The Ambition of the King Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Thráin has finally found a way to fix his problem, Prince Thranduil and Prince Thorin are in quite the predicament and this is only the calm before the storm.

**Chapter 10**

**The Ambition of the King**

**Part 2**

The morning in Erebor welcomed the Dwarven-King sitting at his desk after a night of musings.

The King’s hand sneaked inside his pocket while his thick fingers wrapped tightly around the gem inside his clothes. His mind went at ease knowing the gem was still there, resting warmly near his heart. His dark musing soon took the form of ill-intent whispers brought by Lord Drugin regarding Fundin and the secret meeting he planned as soon as his son arrived to Erebor. For the Dwarven-King it wasn’t a secret or even a surprise to know Drugin was behaving so helpful and kind with his monarch; the little snake had always sought the Throne of Erebor and he was probably planning something while extending his helpful hand to the King. Thráin knew Drugin had first planned to marry Thorin with one of the females belonging to his clan, when the announcement of Thorin and the elf’s engagement was made, Drugin had been enraged and, while Thráin enjoyed the sight of the distressful Lord, he also noticed that cunning head of his working on another approach.

The Dwarven-King scoffed standing up directing his footsteps to the hidden door behind one of the bookshelves; the King’s heart started beating at a rapid rate, his forehead showing pearl-like drops of sweat as he approached his destination, going down stairs of stone with tight passages only lit by the torches of the dwarves.

Thráin felt his anxious body calm down as soon as he reached the door he had been looking for. The treasure vault of Erebor held only two different doors. The main gate decorated with gold and willow wood, with the marking of the Line of Durin and the form of the mountain on the surface. It was protected by the magic of the Dwarves and by the intrinsic work of their different locks. In Erebor, there were only three different people holding the key, magical or physical, to open the gate: King Thráin, Lord Fundin and Dís. However, the second door was hidden away from the public and even from some of the members of the Royal guard or the council and Lords of Erebor. It was a gate only disclosed to the King.

As Thráin reached the gate his hand trembled, his eyes went out of focus while his mind could only think of the bright, yellow-ish room before him. It was made in a circular shape, with several columns made out of marble and mithril; the treasure vault of Erebor held the richness of the Royal Family and the mountain itself. The moment King Thráin stepped into the treasure room his lips curled up in a smirk, he knelt down grabbing the closest golden coin closing his eyes in pleasure when his mind went at ease with his surroundings.

As it had become a habit whenever he visited this place, the voices started mumbling.

The first time it happened, King Thráin had reacted violently demanding who dare to enter his treasure room. The answer would usually come in the form of entrancing words and enchanting promises, it took him some time but, in the end, the King discovered the warm coming from the ring on his hand. It was then Thráin discovered the gleaming of the gem at the clearing of the voices in his head. He understood right there and there, his ancestors must be trying to seek him out, always advising him while promising a great future if he but listened to them.

Thráin understood the voices were concerned, just like him, about the future of his Kingdom. It was obvious his son was one of the main topics he would need to take care of if he wanted Erebor to be as magnificent as he had envisioned. The King took a few steps further into the mountain, his hand putting the Arkenstone from his pocket. The beautiful gem twinkled merrily under the lights of the torches, its beauty captivating the King as it usually did; the moment to crown himself as a divine King sent by the gods was approaching fast and he could imagine this stone immortalizing his rightful reign. The King darkened when he noticed a piece of parchment on his hand touching the gem; he took it away glancing at the offending object with disgust until he remembered its origins.

A few days ago a big, bat came through his window. A messenger of another kind from Dol-Guldur bringing a letter with diplomatic words inquiring about his well-being, the state of the Kingdom and the health of the King and the young Prince; the letter brought back to his attention how regretful were the inhabitants of Dol-Guldur when they found out it wasn’t King Thráin but his son the one promised to the elf and to the wonders the Eldar brought to the mortals of Arda. Thráin scoffed when he remembered the last words _“…It is regretful, indeed that sickness or old age will take the life of the Magnanimous King Thráin in the near future_ , _while his son takes over the Throne of Erebor while not being half as magnificent as his father. However, I soon expect to deal in peace and business with the young Prince instead of his father, for I can only deal to those who will remember an alliance and peace with me instead of those bound to leave this earth as it was written by the Valar.”_

Dead and being forgotten were indeed terrible fates.

Thráin growled crushing the letter on his hand, spitting on the floor in rage. The ring giving to him by the inhabitants of the Fortress gleamed dangerously, getting warmer and warmer as a plan started forming inside the King’s head. In a single moment, King Thráin saw himself wearing his crown on the High Throne of Erebor with the Arkenstone above his head glorifying his persona while his subjects along with his allies and enemies knelt before him. Thráin lifted his head to face the concave ceiling while his mind drew the image of alabaster skin, sapphire eyes, silk, golden locks of hair falling like a cascade on a back begging to be bend over and be submitted.  King Thráin despised elves, he thought them no more than dirt on his boots; but to have the prissy Prince bend to his will was an image the King cherished with malice and desire. It wasn’t so much he liked the elf, it was the pleasure he would have breaking him, bending him to his will while he took from him the gift of immortal life.

_Take it…it’s yours…you should be the Immortal King of the Dwarves, forever reigning under the mountain…_

It was such an entrancing thought and, as time passed by, Thráin couldn’t stop himself from thinking about it. His main problem was the ancient laws and cultural traditions of his race, he knew many wouldn’t agree with his intentions, many would object and Thráin couldn’t afford a revolt for something like this. He had been looking for a way out, for getting Thorin out of the way so Thráin could forever be in the throne.

But, how to do it without enraging the people of Erebor and by shutting up any protests from the council?

 _If Prince Thorin were to disappear, the Line of Durin would only be kept by you…_ The voice spoke softly, sweetly while helping King Thráin formulated a solution to his predicament.

Thráin furrowed his brows while lowering his gaze to the treasure before him. He tilted his head while caressing the gleaming stone on his hand, he stepped forward ruminating over the sudden thought. Dís was Queen of Ered Luin; she wouldn’t produce another heir which meant Fíli would be King for his own Kingdom. Thráin and Thorin were the only ones left from the Line of Durin in Erebor; the council relied on both of them to keep their bloodline running in the mountain.

King Thráin smirked moving deeper into the chamber, his right hand detaching itself from the Arkenstone to grab the hilt of his great-great-grandfather’s sword. He put the sword off of its sheath and the blade gleamed under the light of the closest flame, if Thorin wasn’t available to continue with the Royal Line and to take over the Kingdom it would be up to Thráin to continue the Royal Line. Only then could the council accept his deep desire to lay claim on the elf and the gift of an immortal life.

Suddenly everything was very clear and, as Thráin orchestrated the perfect plan to make sure his son would not ruin his plans, the golden ring given to him by the messenger of Dol-Guldur stopped gleaming cooling down until Thráin could no longer feel it’s warm on his hand.

*****

King Thráin shot a disdainful stare to the middle age dwarf speaking to the rest of the council.

Everyone was shooting distrustful stares to the speaker, a middle-age dwarf head of one of the lowest clans in the council. Lord Drugin wore a long beard that reached his abdomen, bluish and decorated with emerald green threats forming the braid of the leader of a clan. His body was covered by cotton and linen of purple and green, his deep green eyes shone with pride and arrogance with sweet and ill-intended words leaving his mouth as he spoke of the rebellion in Khand.

Thorin shifted placing his fist on the table while his dark eyes pierced the dwarf Lord, he didn’t like Lord Drugin Greenstone. The dwarf belong to a clan fallen in disgrace after they tried to take over the Throne of Erebor five generations prior; the Dwarven-Prince didn’t understand why Lord Drugin kept speaking about loyalty and harsh measures to contain the still rumoured rebellion in Khand when his clan had almost provoked a civil war. King Thráin from his part kept his hands on top of his abdomen, reclining his chair while staring boringly at the Lord; he had already decided what to do and how to do it, this meeting with the council was a mere formality to make the rest of the Lords believe they had some kind of power on their King and his decisions. The Dwarven-King lifted his eyebrows at Lord Drugin when he stared directly into the King’ eyes, Thráin smirked as he was remembered by the meeting he had with the Dwarven-Lord prior to the meeting.  Lord Drugin had been so ready to comply with the orders of his King, Thráin was pretty sure Drugin would send the best of his warriors to have the task done by the time Thorin was ready to leave Khand. Thráin could not find a better ally to his plans than this lowly Lord who wanted nothing more than to sit on the Throne of Erebor and tied the Line of Durin to his own clan. The ambition of Lord Drugin would be his downfall and the right incentive Thráin would use to accomplish his plans.

“I believe we should make sure Lord Orik and the Dwarrows of Khand remember they exist thanks to the mercy of King Thráin and Erebor.” Lord Drugin sat down placing his hand on the table, his green eyes glancing around the table before settling on the King.

“Thank you, Lord Drugin, for this inspirational speech about loyalty and violence.” Thorin said dryly, he shook his head in disbelief continuing. “However, I think I have a better idea.”

“You have a better idea?” Thráin intervened raising his eyebrows while shooting a sceptical stare to his son. “Then, by all means, Thorin let us hear it.”

Thorin face his father feeling his ears burn at the mocking tone the King used, the eyes of the council were on him and he could feel the support coming from Dwalin and Balin each one of them sitting beside him.

“Lord Drugin is right on one thing; Khand is one of the most important protectorates we have. Not only due to its location but its production of gold and crafting of the tools we use in the mines.” Thorin made sure to stare at each and every single member of the council, everyone was paying attention to him while Thráin leaned forward his lips drew a single smile.

“Lord Orik said he needed help, he isn’t talking about insurrection unless we force his hand. We haven’t sent any help to a place that it’s part of our Kingdom.” Thorin turned to his father then furrowing his brows. “Father, we are only showing weakness if we don’t back our people in situations like this. Let me go there with the small army you thought of sending, let me negotiate and parlay with them to solve this matter.”

“What if they don’t want to hear you, son?” Thráin asked his eyes piercing a tense Thorin, the Dwarven-Prince was left without words for his father had never referred to him as son. Never.

“I…I will submit them.” Thorin replied shifting on his chair. “But, we can’t really afford to go to conflict with a city that it is part of our Kingdom when we have wargs and orcs daring to cross our borders and our neighbour’s lands.”

“Prince Thorin is right.” The oldest member of the council and head of one of the richest clan’s in Erebor spoke nodding to his Prince. “Going to war with other Dwarves is just dishonourable! It is not the right way unless we are force to! The Prince is speaking with the wisdom of his family, I say we go with his plan first and, if all of these fails, then Lord Drugin’s way should be taken.”

Thráin held himself from letting his emotions show on his face; his eyes flickered from one member of his council to the next until they fell in the form of his prideful son. He saw Thorin smiled a little watching as everyone around the room agreed with him, his son had always had a way to get everyone around him to love him. Only Thráin knew how incompetent and sentimental Thorin was, only the King understood in the hands of his incompetent son the Kingdom of Erebor would perish.

The sight of Fundin nodding at Thorin caught the King’s attention. King Thráin scoffed his eyes dark, filled with animosity but also with thoughtfulness. Long had he known his best friend and brother in everything but blood had been acting strange around him; Thráin trusted Fundin would soon understand why he had been working in secrecy when he revealed the Arkenstone to the Kingdom to affirm his place as the rightful King.

Soon the plans regarding the situation in Khand were made, everyone agreeing with the course of action Thorin explained to them. At the same time, some of the dwarves in charge of the Army were commissioned to start investigating the sudden influx of orcs and wargs near Erebor, its protectorates and the neighbourhood Kingdom of Esgaroth.  By the time mid-day was arriving, everyone left the council room to have lunch, Balin left promising Thorin to have everything ready for his departure later in the afternoon while the Dwarven-Prince stayed behind to talk to his father.

Thráin stood from his place on his chair approaching his son while Balin closed the door behind him; the King stared at his soon making an impressed face at him.

“Congratulations, you got the support of the council to go to Khand as an ambassador of peace.” Thráin spoke clearly, his voice with only a tinge of coldness. “You are becoming better at this.”

“Thank you, my Lord.” Thorin mumbled eyeing his father with suspicion. “I just want this to be solved peacefully; we cannot afford to lose such an important protectorate to a simple quarrel when everything can be solved with words.”

“Indeed.” Thráin stared at his son leaning against the table. “You even got the council and me; I have to add, to let you take your fiancé in this little adventure. I hope, Thorin, you are working on getting closer to the slutty elf…I’ve heard King Bard got to taste that sweet flesh, I hope you at least get to breed it.”

Thráin smirked at the rage showing off in Thorin’s face, he was so tempted to laugh at the reaction he got from Thorin. But he held himself, he wasn’t pleased at all to know Thorin desired to take the elf with him, he was even more angered when Lord Drugin told him about the affair the King of Esgaroth had with the elf. But, Thráin was patient, he would make Bard paid for it but for now he would focus on getting his son out of the way.

“Those are lies, my Lord.” Thorin spoke through gritted teeth and he didn’t even know why he was defending Thranduil or even Bard. “But, even if there is truth behind these rumours, my interested in taking Prince Thranduil with me is more strategic than anything.”

“Strategic? Oh, do explain this to me, son.”

“He is to be my husband, is he not? He should know how the Kingdom is ruled and how we solved our problems.” Thorin stared at his father gauging any strange response form him but getting nothing.

“A wise take of action, still…” Thráin pierced his son with his eyes; he circled his son while changing into a more serious posture. “I hope this trip helps you to take him and do as I ask you to do several months ago, Thorin. Do not make me think this human King is more capable of bedding a filthy elf than any son of the Line of Durin, do not disappoint me.”

Thráin left Thorin alone in the chamber; the Dwarven-Prince couldn’t help but remember the kiss he shared with Thranduil the night before. Thorin placed a hand on his forehead trying to forget the warm coming from those lips, the closeness of Thranduil’s lithe body, how right it felt when he closed the distance between them. Thorin let out a frustrated sigh shaking his head, his father’s words had stung deep inside his soul, the implication even Thráin knew about the affair hurt as much as it hurt seeing Thranduil kissing Bard. The Dwarven-Prince let his face fall in a gesture of defeat, he could not accomplish what his father asked of him, he could not try to get closer to Thranduil in a physical way as if it meant nothing.

“How are you fairing?” Dwalin closed the door behind approaching Thorin worriedly.

“How do you think? The King was suspiciously kind to me today. I thought he would put more of a fight when I proposed to take Thranduil with me.” Thorin sat heavily on a chair lifting his eyes to Dwalin. “At least, he let me go to Khand and see what I can do.”

“You must be careful; you will only have Bofur and Oin with you over there.” Dwalin eyed Thorin for a moment he took in the bags under his Prince’s eyes, the distressful expression on his face and Dwalin knew something happened to him. “Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

Thorin tensed looking at Dwalin out of the corner of his eyes, “Mmm, no?”

Dwalin furrowed his brows, “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Thorin answered rather quickly, guiltiness filling his eyes. “Nothing...I just, I’m not so sure I want to spend my time with Prince Thranduil during this trip.”

Dwalin contemplated Thorin for a long time, he knew there were things about the Elven-Prince he should be telling Thorin, but he also thought about disclosing certain aspects of the elf’s life to Thorin would be inappropriate. The spy mused over the moment he saw the change of heart on his friend, the softening of those black eyes whenever the elf was nearby or how he had outdone himself fixing up the watch tower of the Royal Palace only to gift it to Thranduil.

“I thought you will be delighted.” Dwalin replied giving his friend a half-smile, Thorin huffed shrugging.

“I’m starting to think he would prefer the company of King Bard instead of mine.” When Thorin saw the widening of eyes and sudden startled realization on Dwalin’s face, he knew he was the only idiot to not notice the affair between Thranduil and Bard.

“You knew as well.” Thorin looked away stopping Dwalin before he could say or ask anything else. “I saw them kissing, during this hunting trip…But I started suspecting something was up after the Winter Festival. I’m not an idiot.”

“I never thought you were one, I wanted to tell you but…” Dwalin trailed off weighting the pros and cons of being honest with Thorin. He decided he lie Thorin long enough and he still had many secrets he wasn’t sure how to reveal to his friend to not give him this moment of honesty. “But I saw your feelings for the elf and was thinking on how to tell you.”

“You want to spare my feelings.” Thorin chuckled shaking his head. “I’m starting to think I am really cursed. I mean, isn’t it funny I have feelings for a blast elf? That my father doesn’t love me? That everyone is expecting me to be the perfect heir and take over the Kingdom as my father gives into madness?”

Dwalin heard this with growing worry in his heart; he leaned forward placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder looking into Thorin’s eyes. Thorin kept his eyes avert but he was aware of the heavy stare coming from his friend and the calming effect his hand and presence had on him.

“You have always had a great heart, Thorin. It is not something to be ashamed of, even if Prince Thranduil doesn’t love you, even if your father doesn’t love you, you have ten dwarves and a hobbit that love you very much.” Dwalin winced feeling foolish while speaking in such a way, Thorin snorted looking at Dwalin with amusement and gratefulness. “You were born to be a King, Thorin. You are doing it fine, you don’t need to worry to fill anyone’s expectations because, as far as I know, you are my King already and I know many inside this mountain feel the same way.”

“I didn’t know you were capable of such sweet talking, Master Dwalin.” Thorin teased grinning a little.

“Oh, bugger off, I’m trying to cheer you up, you ungrateful git.” Dwalin leaned back grumbling while trying to hide the red tingeing his cheeks.

“Is that a way to treat your King?” Thorin kept on teasing chuckling when Dwalin pushed him while standing up.

“This is the last time I try to make you feel better.” Dwalin shook his head smiling with his eyes but trying to look indignant.

“I am thankful.” Thorin stood up as well this time around softening his features while placing his hands on Dwlain’s arms. “I really am.”

Dwalin nodded facing his Prince with determination, “I have yet to know you in defeat, Thorin. And my heart tells me I will never see this side of you. You love the elf? Then, go ahead and make him forget about King Bard.”

“You know? This is the third time I heard the same advice?” Thorin tilted his head, “I never thought everyone around me was so fond of the idea of me with an elf.”

“We aren’t.” Dwalin said wincing slightly. “Actually, there were wages on who would try to kill whom first, then some others of who would run away from their duties first and finally who would fuck whom out of one of your legendary fights.”

Thorin rolled his eyes, “What else did you guys wager for?”

“Who would fall in love with whom first.” Dwalin replied smirking. “Bilbo, Ori and Gloin won, by the way. The rest of us thought the elf would be the first to fall for your natural charm.”

“You guys need a new hobby.” Thorin chuckled stepping away.

“Probably, still we know you enough to know you should not give up on this.” Dwalin said. “Just…go for it, you may be surprised by how much Prince Thranduil seems to already be captivated by you.”

Thorin didn’t argue, he didn’t think Dwalin was right but he wasn’t ready to explain to Dwalin why he felt this supposedly romance wouldn’t work. Both dwarves left the council room talking about the preparations for the trip, Dwalin advised Thorin to go to the tower to tell Thranduil he needed to be ready to leave in the afternoon.  The Dwarven-Prince grumbled dreading his confrontation with Thranduil after the events of the night before; why had he been so foolish? Thorin couldn’t answer this and he needed to just swallow his insecurities and inadequacy before facing the Elven-Prince.

* * *

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Morning sneaked around the mountain, the soft tones of dawn decorated the sky with a myriad of light blue and orange, with tones soft pink and purple as the sky cleared up and the world before him took on the bright colours of nature.  He stood by the railing; the breeze caressed his heated skin soothing his hyperactive senses that had gone berserk after the events of the night before. 

Prince Thranduil clenched his eyes close tightly trying to stop the thoughts filled with memories. He had been trying to get control over his own persona while shaking away the feeling of warm lips against his, of shaky hands grabbing him with eagerness and inexperienced. It had been a simple kiss. It hadn’t even been that good of a kiss, for Thranduil discovered the night before Thorin hadn’t experienced the lips of another before him.  Thranduil let out another frustrated sigh while his blue eyes rolled to sweep the sky before him. He didn’t understand why he was so affected by this, last night he was just trying to play around, he was just enjoying a light joke on Thorin for having ignored him all the way back to Erebor. He never….Thranduil never thought his little mischief would backfire, he never thought…

“The last time I saw such an expression on your face, you were about to tell King Oropher you were with child.” Thranduil turned around to see Glorfindel approaching him with his hands carrying two simple cups. The Captain of the guard offered Thranduil a simple smile while handing over the cup filled with orange juice.

“Thank you.” Thranduil mumbled looking away from the intense stare of his friend.

“So, am I going to be an uncle again or did something happen with Prince Thorin last night?” Glorfindel tried to sound pretty casual but when Thranduil tensed up his eyes bulging out before turning his face away from him, the Captain knew something did happen.

“Nothing happen. I don’t know where do you come with these ideas.” Thranduil spoke softly not making eye contact with Glorfindel. The Captain cocked a brow taking a long sip from his cup while eyeing Thranduil inquiringly.

“I apologized; I thought since you and Prince Thorin didn’t come back to us after whatever meeting you attended with Lord Fundin perhaps something had happened.” Glorfindel tilted his head pretending to be confused. “Besides, Prince Thorin did seem a little _odd_ when he brought breakfast just a few minutes ago.”

“He did?” Thranduil asked shakily, Glorfindel offered a half-smirk to Thranduil who soon straightened up glaring at his friend.

“Well, actually, it was Bofur the one who brought me and Legolas to this beautiful place last night, and the one to bring breakfast this morning.” Glorfindel approached Thranduil slowly leaning against the rail to see the forest and the grassing lands under them. The Captain looked rather impressed whistling at the landscape looking over at Thranduil out of the corner of his eye.

“He really outdid himself to impress you, didn’t he?” Glorfindel could sense the discomfort coming from his friend, he knew there was something bothering Thranduil greatly but he was yet to discover what it was. “Legolas was beyond himself with his room, which was located just around the corner; he wanted to tell you but he…he could sense something was wrong with you so he decided to leave you alone. He is coming soon, though.”

Thranduil shifted restlessly taking a long sip from the orange juice; he closed his eyes feeling the refreshing taste of citric touching his tongue and cooling down his throat. The Elven-Prince didn’t know Legolas wanted to come to him last night, if he was to be honest he completely forgot about everyone else and the fact they would probably share the same accommodations as him. Thranduil turned to Glorfindel this time around ready to face his friend, Glorfindel sighed wriggling his eyebrows playfully until Thranduil let out an exasperate smile.

“Stop that, you look ridiculous.”

“Ah, but it made you smile, and improvement from the tormented and grumpy expression you wore seconds ago.” Glorfindel bumped against Thranduil pointing the room with his eyes. “Bofur told us Prince Thorin spent a lot of time fixing everything for _us_. Since you were here last night, I’m guessing Prince Thorin showed it to you first.”

“We kissed.” Thranduil blurted out just when Glorfindel was taking another sip from his juice, the Captain choked on the juice his eyes bulging out while Thranduil rolled his eyes patting his friends back. “With this reaction, I feel so much better knowing you are my friend and you have my back. At least, you didn’t faint like the time you found out about Legolas.”

Glorfindel cleared his throat, “You cannot drop this kind of news on me just like that. And, we agreed you would never mention that incident, ever again.”

Thranduil nodded and soon lowered his gaze when Glorfindel turned his attention back to him.

“So, you two kissed.” Glorfindel mumbled Thranduil leaned forward resting against the rail of the balcony.

“I wanted to make fun of him; perhaps made him squirm a little…” Thranduil furrowed his brows his voice trembling as he remembered what happened last night. “It was going to be a peck on the lips, nothing…he just told me not to do it because he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions…I found his words a little ridiculous and I was enjoying how nervous he was, I just…and then…”

Glorfindel kept his eyes on his friend while he tried to explain what had happened, Thranduil looked really troubled but his eyes were just gleaming softly with longing. This was the first time Glorfindel saw Thranduil so _off,_ the Elven-Prince was really immersed in a world of confusion and denial while he spoke with detail about what had happened last night.

“He wasn’t even a good kisser.” Thranduil finally said to which Glorfindel couldn’t help buck chuckled. “I’m serious! I think…I think he hadn’t kissed anyone before we kissed last night…and yet…yet, not even Bard could make me feel so unbalanced!”

Glorfindel pursed his lips watching Thranduil shake with defeated, his friend was really in some deep trouble and the Captain of his guard finally understood what Legolas was referring to back in Long Forest. It was incredible how perceptive Legolas was regarding his father; Glorfindel couldn’t even believe it until now, until he was standing before Thranduil after a single kiss.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Thranduil questioned Glorfindel furrowing his brows at his friend.

“You know? I have a nice conversation with your son back in the Long Forest.” Glorfindel started standing beside Thranduil smiling a little. “At first, I didn’t know what he was referring too until I decided to pay more attention and to actually recollect what I have seen so far.”

Thranduil narrowed his eyes at Glorfindel, his arm lifting the cup to his lips with Glorfindel speaking to him as if he just made the greatest discovery in all of Middle-Earth.

“At first, I thought it was unbelievable mainly because you were showing so much animosity against Prince Thorin and this whole deal, and because the both of you did really get into some nasty fights the first weeks we were here.” Glorfindel shook his head while making sure Thranduil couldn’t look away from him. “Then, I saw it…I saw it when we were getting ready to come back, I saw it when he ignored you and you grew hurt by this, I saw it when you told me the both of you kissed.”

“I don’t know what are you talking about.” Thranduil said but his voice was soft eyes downcast.

“I think you do.” It was the seriousness Glorfindel used what made Thranduil looked back at him. The Captain placed his hand on the right shoulder of his friend; his face was a mask of seriousness as he spoke clearly to his friends. “I really think you know what am I talking about, Thranduil.  You cannot hide from this, and you know you shouldn’t run away from it. This could turn out to be dangerous not only for you but also for him.”

Thranduil stepped back emptying his cup shaking his head, “You are asking too much, Glorfindel. I promise myself I would not fall into this trap again, that I would not give in my heart. This cannot be possible. All of this is just…wrong.”

“My dear friend, this is no longer up to you. I should have seen it, I should have _smelled_ it. Thranduil, stop running away from new chances the Valar are offering you.” Glorfindel stood facing his friend with sympathy spreading on his beautiful features. “I know how much you have suffered, I know what this could mean for you but you will have to face this sooner or later. Besides, Thorin Oakenshield has a right to know before he starts sensing something is different about him.”

Thranduil didn’t know what to say, he didn’t even know how to address this concerns without voicing what he had feared since the night before. It was easier for Glorfindel to speak of this, to make it sound nice and simple. But for Thranduil it was so complicated, he couldn’t face Thorin and he certainly couldn’t face what he had started feeling for him. Not now, not ever. This would pass and then everything would go back to normal where Thranduil hated Thorin and Thorin hated him.

“Thranduil…” Glorfindel said his name with a warning tone, his eyebrows twitching while he pursed his lips. “Tell me you will speak with him; tell me you will take the chance of this sudden trip to speak with Thorin.”

Thranduil lifted his eyebrows, his eyes going wide with surprise, “How do you know about the trip?”

Glorfindel gave Thranduil a smug smile, “I’m always a step ahead of you, my friend. Besides, when you and Prince Thorin didn’t come with Balin and Dwalin we kind of figured you two lovebirds wanted to spend some time alone so we got to talk a little.”

“Glorfindel…” Thranduil glared at the Captain who lifted his arms in a sign of peace. “Did they tell you everything?”

Glorfindel tilted his head, “They told me about the situation in Khand and that you and Prince Thorin were needed over there. This is going to be the perfect moment for you to speak with Thorin since it is obvious Legolas can’t go with us.”

“With me.” Thranduil said firmly facing Glorfindel with seriousness. “I do not want Legolas alone in the mountain.”

“You are crazy if you think I’m going to let you go alone.” Glorfindel replied he opened his mouth to keep protesting but Thranduil stopped him with a single stare.

“No, you will stay here and protect my son.” Thranduil looked around before centring his blue eyes on Glorfindel. “Last night I found something disturbing regarding King Thráin, if our suspicions are right I do not want him near Legolas.”

“What happened?” Glorfindel listened with care as Thranduil explained the situation. With every word, with every comment the face of Glorfindel transformed into a mask of gravity, he frowned deeply clenching his fists when the implications of Thráin’s desire of immortal life and desired to possess Thranduil seemed one of the main focus of their conversation.

“How did he find out about it? When we first got here, it was obvious he did not know much about us. Only that you could procreate, to give his son an heir.” Glorfindel passed around the balcony his hand caressing his chin.

“I don’t know, I don’t really care. I am only going with Thorin because Lord Fundin thinks it’s for the better.” Thranduil winced. “I…even after what happen last night, I believe he is right. This is why I want you here; if something were to happen I need to know Legolas is being protected.”

“What about you? What about you father? King Oropher needs to know about this!” Glorfindel turned to Thranduil. “Thranduil, I’ve been uneasy for quite some time. The news you just gave me only confirm my suspicions that something else is at work here.”

“What good would it do to tell father?” Thranduil shrugged bitterly. “You and I both know he is tied by this arrangement he made with King Thráin; the Woodland Realm cannot risk a dispute with Erebor if I were to leave or step back from the engagement.”

It wasn’t as if Thranduil hadn’t thought about it, at some point during his restless night he thought about running back to Mirkwood and telling his father everything that had been going on in Erebor. He knew King Oropher would take the right measures to face Erebor and he also knew King Bard would be ready to show his support; but Thranduil soon dismissed these thoughts feeling dirty and unfit of his position for even entertaining this cruel form of treason. He knew his sudden need to run had everything to do with his feelings towards Thorin and nothing to do with Thráin’s lecherous need.

Glorfindel took a deep breath, “I suppose the meeting Prince Thorin is attending at the moment has something to do with you two parting to Khand.”

Thranduil nodded briefly, “I supposed, apparently, I wasn’t invite to this meeting.”

The Captain of the Elven guard was so tempted to snort but he refrained himself from doing it, there was no understanding Thranduil when he was deep in denial and confusion. The only thing Glorfindel could do was be patient and hope Thranduil would do the right thing before it was too late.

“Whatever happens after this meeting, promise me you will watch over Legolas.” Thranduil spoke again, Glorfindel nodded firmly. “I can take care of myself as long as I know he is fine. Like you, my friend, I’m starting to sense there is something off with the world.”

“You don’t have to worry, I will watch over him.” Glorfindel then cleared his throat and Thranduil knew the topic involving Thorin wasn’t over. “Thranduil, promise me this trip or whatever happens today, promise me you will talk to Thorin. You know you must do it, you more than anyone else must know what has been happening from quite some time.”

Thranduil opened his mouth to retort, to say something, but he just couldn’t. Not yet and probably not ever; however, for his friend’s peace of mind he inclined his head agreeing begrudgingly.  Glorfindel didn’t need to know he wasn’t planning on talking with Thorin about anything that wasn’t making peace in Khand and perhaps dealing with Thráin’s problem.

“Ada?” Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by Legolas appearing on the door, the young elf had his eyes narrow at the scene with a wolf limping beside him. “Good morning, Master Glorfindel. Ada, how are you feeling today?”

“I’m perfect, I see you and Beleg have already gotten into a habit to go around together.” Thranduil smiled brightly at his son thankful for the distraction and the abrupt end of the discussion.

“He just loves me.” Legolas stepped inside the balcony looking around impressed and enamoured with the view. “So, this is why you didn’t join us last night? Thorin really outdid himself to impress you.”

Thranduil felt his ears burn hating the smug smirk on Glorfindel’s face, Legolas turned to his father smirking amusedly while wriggling his brows.

“Tell me everything, Ada.” Legolas’eyes twinkled while staring at his father. “I want to know if I have to protect your virtue from the Dwarven-Prince.”

“Legolas!” Thranduil exclaimed rather forcefully while Glorfindel laughed out loud. “What is it with you and Glorfindel wanting me and Thorin to…to be _something?_ If I remembered correctly, you weren’t overly fond of him when you first got here. ”

Legolas straightened up making his way to the rail looking around with Beleg following him wiggling his tail happily. The young elf then turned to his father with his face blank but his eyes taking in a serious glint.

“I’ve never seen you this…relax or even content before.” Legolas shrugged picking Beleg up while making his way towards his father. “And I certainly like him better than King Bard.”

“And, this is my cue to leave you both to talk.” Glorfindel turned to Thranduil shooting him one last warning glance before saying good-bye and leaving father and son to their conversation.

They stood in the balcony for what seemed like forever, Legolas placed Beleg on the floor sitting down indian style with Beleg running around him. Thranduil observed the scene with a fond smile; he looked back at his son and soon joined him on the floor, both of them focusing their attention on the running wolf. Legolas lifted his face to scrutinize his father; he shifted slightly scratching the back of Beleg’s ear.

“When did it start? Your affair with King Bard, I mean.” Legolas questioned softly with the right amount of curiosity in his voice.

“Five years ago.” Thranduil was ready to be honest with his son, he stared at Legolas who seemed to be recollecting his memories of five years ago when he turned twenty years and he was allowed more time with Thranduil while, at the same time, Thranduil was denied the right to make public their parentage. 

Legolas pursed his lips seeking his father’s eyes, “Why did you do it?”

Thranduil contemplated the question for a long time; Beleg approached him shyly sitting on his butt lifting his eyes to him while wiggling his tail. Thranduil couldn’t help but smile, his right hand ruffling the head of the cub that growl happily lifting his muzzle to lick the elf’s hand.

“I wished I have the right answer to your question.” Thranduil replied truthfully. “I could tell you how it was because I missed Haldir or how desperate I was feeling something…those are poor excuses for my behaviour, I was being selfish, Legolas, that’s all you need to know.”

Legolas pursed his lips eyeing his father for a moment before speaking, “Are you playing with Thorin as well? Because, if that’s the case, father I have to ask you to stop it right now.”

Thranduil opened his eyes surprised realizing Legolas was speaking seriously about this; the young elf shifted slightly scratching the visible part of his left hand. It was then Prince Thranduil realized Legolas was wearing a cast on his left arm, his forehead had been treated as well as the other wounds on his face and body. He was looking much better, just like Beleg, and Thranduil was thankful to the Dwarves who had taken it upon themselves to take care of his son as if he was one of the company.

“You really like him, don’t you?” Thranduil inquired with a half-smile.

Legolas nodded curtly still looking serious, “He is really a nice dwarf, you know? Nothing like what some of our kin make dwarves look. And he really, really likes you, haven’t you noticed this?”

Thranduil knew Legolas was seeking for a deep answer; the Elven-Prince turned his head away watching as the sun advanced in the sky marking the passing hours of the morning.

“I know.” Thranduil blinked a couple of times lowering his gaze. “I’m still surprise you notice it before Glorfindel or even me noticed it.”

Legolas held his father’s eyes waiting still for the answer to his early question, Thranduil sighed shaking his head while picking Beleg up from the ground.

“I won’t play with Thorin, Legolas. I couldn’t do it.” Thranduil replied seriously.

“And your affair with King Bard…” Legolas questioned.

“I ended it in the Long Forest.”

Legolas furrowed his brow nodding, “Are you…I mean, you and Prince Thorin had created such an strange bond but…I can sense your reluctance, I know you are resisting it. Why? Why are you so afraid to let Thorin in? I’m pretty sure he has already embraced the bond, even if he seems clueless about it.”

“You are so uncannily perceptive.” Thranduil mumbled staring with just a hint of fear in his blue eyes, Legolas narrowed his eyes at his father but the Elven-King soon closed off his connection with his son. “That it is enough for you, Legolas. Right now I want to spend some time with you without thinking or talking about anything else. You know I will be leaving soon, right?”

“Yes, I heard Master Glorfindel and Dwalin speaking last night when they thought I was talking with Bilbo and Ori.” Legolas replied rather cheekily, his eyes suddenly gleamed with mischief. “So, you and Prince Thorin are going alone on a long trip?”

“You and Glorfindel should stop the teasing.” Thranduil replied rolling his eyes, his lips however curved into a smile.

The rest of the morning Thranduil spent it only with his son, sharing the few hours they had until Thorin or any other dwarf came over to inform them of the trip to Khand. It had been such a long time since Thranduil and Legolas spent some time alone, Legolas was looking brightly at his father teasing him and speaking to him about all the things Throin’s Company taught him so far. Thranduil just listened smiling or making a sound of agreement or disagreement at any particular point on their conversation.  The Elven-Prince soon found himself relaxing and forgetting about the incident the night before and the fact he would face Thorin later that day.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

The mountain was buzzing with excitement watching the different warriors getting ready to leave on the front door, many children and inhabitants of the mountain stepped aside of their homes to watch them and their Prince barking orders left and right. Many where wondering what was happening, the rumours didn’t wait and soon everyone was suspecting a surprised attack coming from the orcs of the north, or the south or perhaps a training drill. Only a few were speaking about the events in Khand, and even fewer guess the real reason as to why seventy armed dwarves were forming lines at the gates of Erebor.

Thorin approached the dwarf wearing three different braids on his beard and one decorated with black threats on his head. The Captain of the regiment bowed deeply to his Prince while the rest of the warriors present arms to their monarch.

“Captain Farin, at your service Prince Thorin.” Captain Farin stayed in his position until the Prince placed a hand on his head.

“It is an honour to meet you, Captain Farin. Stand up now, soldier of Erebor and speak to me.” Thorin stepped aside allowing Farin to straighten up, the regiment of dwarves straightened up glancing ahead of them in silence.

“We are ready for you to command my Lord. Seventy of the best soldiers Khand have produced in decades.” The Captain said his eyes looking with wonderment at the Prince. “The youngest ones are in charge of the tents, the mounts and the supplies; our weapons were prepare for the long journey.”

Thorin nodded pleased his black eyes taking in the warriors and then focusing on the Captain standing in front of him, the Dwarven-Prince could see apprehension accompanied with hesitation in the other’s eyes. Thorin tilted his head leaning in closer to Farin, the dwarf tensed fearing the consequences of his acts when the Dwarven-Prince spoke.

“You look worried, Captain Farin. Is there anything you want to know or ask?” Thorin stared at the Captain who shifted tersely. “Go ahead, I’m giving you my permission because once we leave the mountain you and the rest of you will have to follow my orders, is that understood?”

“Yes, my Prince, of course.” Farin looked scandalized at the implications behind his Prince’s words, the Captain hesitated for a moment before speaking up. “My Lord Thorin, I was merely wondering why you chose us as an army to go with you to Khand. We all heard the rumours of the attack but we also are fearful for our home.”

Thorin contemplated Farin for a moment, his face was unreadable and the Captain feared he had crossed an invisible line and offended his Prince.

“You are Lord Orik’s son, are you not? His oldest one.” Thorin stated Farin merely nodded. “Well, son of Orik you and your soldiers are going back home to make sure Khand is never attacked in such a vile way ever again. We are going to Khand to parlay with your father and stop any trouble. Is that understood?”

Captain Farin opened his eyes in bewilderment; he glanced at his Prince not really believing the words he had just said. Farin was the oldest one in the regiment, he had been in the mountain for more than five years without the chance to visit his home or his family, he knew many of the dwarves behind him were suffering of the same fate.  

“My Prince we…we will delighted to do as you told us.” Captain Farin finally said. “It had been a long time since we last step on Khand.”

Thorin offered a brief smile placing his hand on Farin again, “Then be glad, son of Orik, you are going back home and we are making peace and righting the wrongs. Be ready, we will leave at nightfall.”

“Yes, my Prince.”

Oín and Bofur approached Thorin both of them wearing different lists, Thorin turned to his friends that were ready for the trip.

“Everything is ready, the food, the supplies, the mounts, the weapons and the warriors.” Bofur frowned glaring at the only warriors wearing different colours from the others. “I don’t like those fellas, green and purple is not a colour I associated with loyalty.”

Thorin grumbled scratching his beard, “I don’t like it either, but father order Lord Drugin to show how worried he was with the situation by sending some of his people. They are here to protect me and Prince Thranduil, apparently.”

“How noble of him.” Bofur said sarcastically, he glanced at Thorin shaking his head. “If I see them do something wrong, can I kill them?”

Thorin snorted, “No, you can´t. But you can incapacitate them.”

“I don’t think they will dare to do something drastic.” Oín intervened glancing at the dwarves of Lord Drugin then at the rest of the warriors. “The others seemed pretty content with this mission and Prince Thorin had just gained the favour of their Captain. Besides, look at the colours they are wearing, blue and silver, they are here for you, Thorin.”

“Aye, you are right, still…” Bofur mumbled narrowing his eyes at the warriors of green and purple while rubbing his maze.

“I think this is it.” Bilbo approached the group with three different pouches in his hand. “I double check so everything was in here. One for Bofur, you better watch out for trouble out there. I also expect a gift when you return.”

“Of course, my dear Bilbo.” Bofur grinned tying the pouch to his waist.

“One for Oín, please watch for these two, they are prone to get hurt easily.” Bilbo smirked at Oín who smiled back nodding.

“Finally, one for Prince Thranduil.” Bilbo said facing Thorin.

“What? You didn’t make me one?” Thorin said getting his blush under control at the mention of the Elven-Prince.

“Of course, I give it to him.” Bilbo said in his non-sense tone. “This is his, you will carry Prince Thranduil’s pouch while he carries yours.”

"Oh, how cute! You two are already wearing each other's bags and all." Bofur chuckled ignoring the glare coming from his Prince.

"You don't have to make it sound so ridiculous but, yes, that's the idea." 

Thorin opened his mouth to protest but he was left without words, Bilbo shot him a cheeky smirk placing the green pouch on the Prince’s hand. Thorin glanced down then back at Bilbo huffing indignantly while fixing the pouch on his waist.

“You will need to speak with him sooner or later, lad.” Bofur commented cleaning up his nails. “I mean, whatever happened between you two last night, you need to stop pretending you’re too busy to go over that tower of his and bring him here so we can leave.”

“My exact thoughts, Bofur, thank you.” Bilbo approached Thorin eyeing him with a knowing glint in his clear eyes. “Do you want to talk about it? Or you really are going to hide and avoid him during this trip?”

“You don’t understand.” Thorin straightened up glancing around before focusing on his friends.

“This is going to be a long trip if you don’t clear things up.” Oín commented raising his brows.

“How is it all of you find out about my business so fast?” Thorin questioned rather impressed.

“We’re your friends, it’s kinda our job.”

Thorin rolled his shoulder placing his hand on the hilt of his sword, “I guess you are right. How long do I have?”

Bofur looked at the soldiers then at the darkening sky on the outside, “Well, I’ll say you have an hour.”

“Get everything ready and have everyone waiting for me outside, I’ll be back in less than an hour so we can leave.” Thorin ordered, his black eyes set on Bilbo.

“Master Baggins, follow me.”

“You’re not going to use me as an excuse to not talk, are you?” Bilbo blinked pursing his lips.

“Of course not, stop making me look like a coward.” Thorin grumbled annoyed.

“You’ve been behaving like one lately.” Bilbo mumbled shrugging. If it had been anyone else, Thorin would have hit them or perhaps scream at them; but this was Bilbo and the damn Hobbit was usually right, looking out for him and the rest of the company.

It was the only one along with Dís who spoke clearly to him without fear of what Thorin could or could not think.

“So, I take it something happen last night.” Bilbo started making small talk as they moved through Erebor to the street leading to the Royal Palace.

“What makes you think that?” Thorin glanced at Bilbo with inquiringly.

“Prince Thranduil was acting funny today.” Bilbo shrugged. “He was really _odd_ whenever you were mentioned, but he also looked rather disappointed when Dwalin and Orí went to him to help him get ready and give him the news about the departure.”

“He did?” Thorin lifted his brows his features shone with a light of hope, but his eyes still held doubt in them.

Bilbo made a sound looking at Thorin out of the corner of his eyes, “Yes, he did. Thorin, this trip is going to be a perfect moment for you two to speak without anyone getting in the way. I hope you do, because what you told us during lunch is rather worrisome.”

Thorin closed his mouth nodding but not really voicing his agreement with Bilbo, “Will you watch over all of them, right? I want you to take care of Legolas as well and to inform me immediately if something were to happen.”

Don’t worry, I will.” Bilbo smiled gently. “Balin is still staying behind so we will keep an eye on everything. And Legolas is going to be fine, Captain Glorfindel is staying behind as well.”

Thorin nodded briefly placing a hand on Bilbo’s back, “What would I do without you, Master Baggins?”

“Probably something stupid.” Bilbo winked at his friend. “And still, you would be the best dwarf and Prince in all of Erebor.”

Thorin smiled gratefully as the both of them got closer to the tower, anxiousness feeling Thorin as he approached the confrontation he was dreading since last night.

*****

Thranduil stood in front of the tapestry showing off the mountain, he stared at it for a long while trying to decide if he should cross the door hidden behind it or not. Anxiousness filled his stomach, a fluttering feeling of expectation grasped his heart just as he took a step back.

“He is not down there, you know? He must be at the gate getting everything ready.” Thranduil turned around to see Dwalin staring at him.

For a moment, Thranduil played with the idea of not knowing what the dwarf was talking about. He didn’t need anyone else getting into his business or to actually be capable of reading his intentions so clearly; then he remembered Legolas and the way all the company had behaved with him. Thranduil didn’t own any other dwarves loyalty or explanations but, Thorin’s Company had won the right of Thranduil to at least be civil with them.

Dwalin pursed his lips, tilting his head he approached the elf that was already wearing battle gear on top of his traveling clothes. The silver armour was made of mithril mould to the strong body of the elf, with the vembrances wearing the symbol of the House of Oropher and the shoulder pats curving to shape the form of the shoulder and the arm. The elf wore a single sword on his left while his back was carrying the silver quiver and the long bow. The Elven-Prince had his hair pristine, held together by his circlet, and his eyes had taken upon themselves a coldness Dwalin was coming to associate with the nature of the elves.

“Then, I believe I should join him and the others at the gate.” Thranduil said turning to leave but Dwalin blocked his way. “Is there anything else I should know or carry with me, Master Dwalin? Or is there another reason for you to block my way?”

“Actually there is.” Dwalin crossed his arms regarding at the elf with critical eyes. “As you know, I’m a spy for my Kingdom. I’m a spy for my Prince. I was raised along with Thorin, all my life I had been there to protect him and have his back in a fight or in any other field.”

Thranduil tensed his blue eyes piercing at the dwarf, it was there he realized they were alone in the hallway the sound of Legolas speaking with Glorfindel came muffled by the close door of his room. The Elven-Prince tilted his head lifting a single eyebrow while concealing his real apprehension as to what Dwalin was about to say.

“Prince Thorin is very lucky to have someone like you with him, then.” Thranduil finally said. “But I don’t understand why you are telling me this.”

“You can play dumb if you want, my Lord.” Dwalin replied. “But I want you to be honest with him.”

“Excuse me?” Thranduil lowered his voice to a dangerous purr, his eyes narrowing while he straightened his full height.

“I know about elves, Prince Thranduil. It is one of my duties to know everything so Thorin can have all the information he needs to be a better Prince and a better King.” Dwalin said not in the slightest intimidate by the change of posture or tone in the Elven-Prince.

This last part made Thranduil’s heart fastened its beat, the Elven-Prince clenched his jaw at Dwalin lifting his chin.

“I see. Thorin Oakenshield had me fooled for a moment.” Thranduil finally replied but whatever else he was about to say was stopped by Dwalin shaking his head.

“You do not understand what I am saying.” Dwalin said. “I know everything about your race and, when I decided to dig in for more information I found out about you and Prince Legolas. Any other information regarding your race you will have to ask and even tell Thorin yourself. My main concern here is your relationship with Prince Legolas and what it can mean for my Prince.”

Thranduil went stiff his eyes going wide, “How do you…”

“Like I said, I’m a spy.” Dwalin then softened when he realized there was panic, real fear deep inside the blue eyes of the Prince. “Your secret is safe with me. I won’t reveal anything to anyone if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“How can I trust you if you come here with insinuations and silent threats?” Thranduil replied shakily. “What is it you want?”

“I want you to be honest with Thorin because, whether you want it or not, you have his heart on your hand.” Dwalin scoffed as he said this. “You heard my father last night; you have seen what is going on around the mountain, Prince Thranduil.  Even if you don’t feel nothing for Thorin, I at least expect you to be honest with him, he deserves as much.”

“Prince Thranduil?”  Legolas exited the room with Beleg following him, the young elf wore a sad smile while staring worriedly at his father. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, I was having a nice chat with Master Dwalin over here.” Thranduil replied with an even tone. “I believe I’m ready.”

“Oh, good, then we got here on time.” Thranduil turned around and he almost winced at the sight of Bilbo Baggins grinning with Thorin standing right behind him.

Both Princes stared at one another for a moment, both trying to look away but incapable of doing so. Glorfindel stepped forward clearing his throat, his grey eyes turning to Thranduil smiling slightly at the still dumbfounded elf.

“I believe everything is ready, my Prince. Legolas and I will help Orí and Master Dwalin get this to the main gate.” Glorfindel made a gesture with his eyes and Thranduil could do nothing but narrow his eyes at his friend.

“I think I will help, and extra hand is always helpful.” Thorin didn’t even bother to hide his glare when Bilbo walked away pushing him lightly.

Dread filled the Princes heart at being left alone in the long hallway, with no sound breaking their silence Thranduil and Thorin didn’t have much to distract themselves from their confrontation. Thorin tilted his head allowing his eyes a careful examination of the armour and the gear Thranduil was wearing; he wondered briefly when everything changed between them. It had been so much easier to hate Thranduil, to be angry at the elf half of the time instead of letting himself be nice to him.  It wasn’t the first time Thorin wondered this, he had started asking himself these questions when he realized all he wanted to do was to make Thranduil happy. His father was right, he was an emotional fool and he was allowing his emotions and his weakness to take over the leader he was supposed to be.

“I see you are ready to leave.” Thorin finally spoke clearing his throat, furrowing his brows while looking away from Thranduil. “Is there anything else you’re taking with you or the others took everything with them?”

Thranduil lifted his chin, looking away while stepping forward, “Everything is ready; I believe we can leave now.”

Thorin shifted slightly his head turning to face the Elven-Prince now standing close to him. There was silence between them, and Thorin sensed there was something else a mixture of uncertainty and wariness. He wished he could say something, anything regarding what had happened between them last night. He wished to know if, maybe, Thranduil felt the same electric shock going through his body until his heart was beating with longing and the only thing that existed was the elf standing before him. But, even as he thought this, he realized how utterly ridiculous it sounded.

“Then, we shall leave.” Thorin announced flatly.

Thranduil felt his hand twitch at his side, his lips trembled in an attempt of speech but he soon pursed his lips. They stood passively on the hallway looking everywhere but at the other, tension growing between them; Thranduil hesitated while he recalled his conversation with Glorfindel.  In a brief moment, he relaxed allowing his mind a brief opening to verify his fears and Glorfindel’s words.

Everything came rushing in at the speed of light, Thranduil felt sorrow, anger, shame, embarrassment, lust and affection. The Elven-Prince closed the link as soon as he realized Thorin had straightened up his face crunching up in bafflement, the Dwarven-Prince turned to Thranduil but the elf had already concealed his expression, he hid behind a blank façade he had mastered during his long centuries in court.

“Did you…?” Thorin started talking but soon stopped placing a hand on his head, Thranduil’s eyes flickered in panic while he stepped forward placing a hand on the Dwarf’s shoulder.

“Are you feeling all right?” Thranduil inquired worriedly, the Dwarven-Prince still wore the confusion on his features while his deep, black eyes spoke of the emotions Thranduil felt moments ago.

“I…It was nothing, just a little dizzy.” Thorin mumbled stepping away from Thranduil. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s go, they must be waiting for us.”

Thranduil didn’t answer; instead he watched Thorin turned around and walk away with him following him close behind.  The Elven-Prince trying to get hold of the panic he was starting to feel when he realized Glorfindel and Legolas had been right all along.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

By the time Prince Thorin and Prince Thranduil arrived to the gates of Erebor several dwarves and other inhabitants of the mountain left their homes to bid good-bye to their Prince. Thorin approached the gates edgy when he realized his father was there along with Lord Fundin and Lord Drugin. Drugin kept shooting annoying stares at the elves until his green eyes centered on Thranduil then his stared changed into one of pure animosity.

Thranduil quirked a brow at the dwarf, he had noticed him before but never got to pay him attention until now. The Elven-Prince couldn’t help but smirk as they approached the King and the dwarf tensed, his eyes gleaming with contempt while glancing from Thranduil to Thorin.

“I have yet to see someone looking at me with such hate.” Thranduil all but whispered to Thorin. “Whatever have I done to upset your fellow dwarf, please tell me I can try it again.”

Thorin tilted his head to stare at Thranduil then his eyes turned to Lord Drugin who was now scowling openly at the closeness between them.

“He wanted to marry me to his daughter or his niece or something like that; I think you foil his plans to sit his clan on the Throne of Erebor.” Thorin whispered back suddenly aware of their closeness.

Thranduil glanced down at him noticing this too, after not having the conversation they should have in the tower Thranduil was starting to feel the need to get closer to the Prince. The Elven-Prince gave Thorin a half-smile but stopping any other attempt of getting closer to the dwarf.

“Perhaps at another time, we could make him enrage with some show of affection.” Thranduil looked away hiding away his expression even though his voice spoke of his bashful demeanour.

Thorin blinked he looked at his father and Lord Drugin, his lips curving slightly. “That is a great idea, perhaps…when we come back from Khand.”

“Perhaps, this trip promises to be a great opportunity to talk.” Thranduil finally replied leaving in the air the silent assurance of the conversations both of them dreaded with their hearts.

“Prince Thranduil, you look quite astonishing today.” King Thráin approached Thranduil, his eyes going over the form of the elf until they stopped on the blue eyes. “What a shame the Kingdom of Erebor won’t be holding your beauty for quite some time.”

“King Thráin, I thank you those kind words, but the Kingdom of Erebor should also share my presence with those cities belonging to the Kingdom as well.” Thranduil answered back almost unperturbed by the intensity of the stare.

“Yes, of course, of course.” Thráin waved his hand ignoring the stares he was receiving from Fundin and even Drugin, the desire in his heart growing darkly. “Your presence, however, should be seriously missed. I was hoping to share some interesting conversations with you but, alas, my son certainly can’t survive without the help of someone as wise and better fit for the Throne as yourself.”

Thorin clenched his teeth, Drugin smirked but Thranduil merely tilted his head his lips drawing an answering smile to the one the King was wearing.

“Indeed, although, I believe this goes both ways.” At the confusing stare he received from Thráin Thranduil blinked owlish. “What I mean, King Thráin is I do not believe I could hold myself together without someone such as Prince Thorin, he certainly is magnificent, like the stories of the Dwarven-Lords of the First Age."

Thorin arched his brow turning to Thranduil with the same skepticism Thráin and Drugin wore, The Elven-King then bowed thanking Thráin for coming to the gates to bid them good-bye before excusing himself.

“I have to bid my farewells to my kin, if you excuse me.” Thranduil left walking regally away from the dwarves while joining with Glorfindel and Legolas, soon engaging the Captain in a conversation in elvish.

“I believe this is my cue, night is already falling and we better leave if we want to rest by dawn.” Thorin said shifting slightly, he turned to Fundin who merely bowed his head.

“Have a nice trip, Prince Thorin. Please return to us safe and sound and with good news.”

Thráin approached his son placing his hands on the Prince’s shoulders, the King smiled aware of the eyes of his people on them. Thorin remained impassive biting the inside of his cheek while Thráin squeezed his shoulders with a painful grip.

“Do not disappoint me, Thorin. I expect to hear from you soon.” Thráin moved away from him nodding while Thorin bowed to his King.

“I won’t father.” The Dwarven-Prince straightened up; his black eyes fell on Drugin for a second. “I will send the good news as soon as I get to Khand.”

Thráin watched his son walked away and joining those misfits of friend he had, the King remained impassive with Drugin standing beside him. The Dwarven Lord shifted slightly, his eyes still looking with hatred at the elves.

“I hope you and your warriors won’t disappoint me, Drugin.” Thráin said softly. “You don’t want to know what I do to those who fail me.”

“I won’t, my Lord.” Drugin then smirked showing his back to the gates. “You won’t have to worry about Prince Thorin anymore, my Lord.”

Thráin nodded curtly stepping away and joining the rest of the council members.

Legolas wrapped his arms tightly around his father, Beleg whined lifting his paw to call Legolas attention.

“Be careful.” Legolas mumbled.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

Thorin approached them kneeling down to pick Beleg up, the wolf whine again, howling softly while licking the dwarf’s face.

“Your beast is attacking me. Again.” Thorin grumbled smiling softly, Legolas laughed lightly picking the wolf up while placing his hand on Thorin.

“You be careful as well, Prince Thorin. Please bring my brother back in one piece.” Legolas stared seriously at the dwarf who glanced at Thranduil before nodding.

“I will, don’t worry.” Thorin moved away inclining his head to Legolas. “You make sure the others don’t get into too much trouble, will you?”

“Don’t worry, Bilbo and I will keep them under tight watch.”

Thorin chuckled bidding them good-bye while returning to his mount; Stardust hit the ground with his hoof shaking his head impatiently. Thranduil said one last good-bye before going on his white horse, his eyes crossed briefly with those of Thorin.

As night fell upon them and the sound of clinging armour followed them into the night, Thranduil felt a strange oppression on his heart. It wasn’t fear, but it wasn’t complete expectation of this new adventure. It was something else, something he couldn’t quite describe but that made him uneasy.  The Elven-Prince rode beside Thorin, the both of them completely silent with them leaving the lights coming from the mountain behind.  Thranduil didn’t know what awaited them beyond the borders of Erebor; he knew they would enter the wilderness, lands beyond his own knowledge where Khand rested before a great lake and at the mercy of a dangerous desert.

“Stop worrying.” Thorin startled him; the Dwarven-Prince was looking at him with softening features. “Whatever danger is ahead of us, we can face it without a problem.”

“Why are you so sure about this? For all you know, the people of Khand won’t be kind in their welcoming. We can even encounter orcs and wargs on our way to the city.” Thranduil blinked confusedly when all Thorin could do was smile.

“Have you ever been beyond these lands, Prince Thranduil?” Thorin didn’t bother to look at him; the Elven-Prince placed a hand on his horse back looking at the star-filled sky.

“I’ve been to Rivendell and Lothlórien, I even visit Lindir once.” Thranduil’s voice softened as the memories of the sea overwhelmed his senses. “But never beyond Esgaroth or Erebor.”

“There is a great desert beyond the borders of Khand, the sun is unmerciful there and the wind can almost bite your skin.” Thorin shook his head still staring at Thranduil. “I have never seen something so beautiful or strong, I thought I never would have the chance to compare its beauty and my attraction to it.”

Thranduil swallowed looking away from the intense stare of the Dwarven-Prince, beside them Bofur snorted softly rolling his eyes while Oín was looking rather impressed with his Prince’s smooth moves.

“And, has it change?” Thranduil asked softly.

Thorin felt a strange wave of courage inside him, “Yes, now I can see with certainty I have laid eyes in the most dangerous, beautiful and wild creature to ever cross my path. I have to say I feel captivated by him.”

Thranduil looked at Thorin out of the corner of his eyes only to see the Dwarven-Prince staring at him with intensity; once again Thranduil regretted not having the conversation regarding the kiss with Thorin before leaving the mountain.  This whole deal was turning out to be rather confusing for him.

“I do not understand, this has nothing to do with my early question.” Thranduil finally replied.

“It has nothing to do with it; I just thought you should know it.” Thorin replied shrugging. “As to the answer of your question, the sons of the Line of Durin don’t fright from a fight, whatever comes we will face it with bravery and intelligence. Worrying before the actual confrontation would only make us doubt if what we are doing is the right thing to do or not.”

“Since when are you so wise, O Dwarven-Prince?”

“I’ve always been wise.” Thorin retorted glaring at Thranduil when the Elven-Prince chuckled.

The rest of the ride was done with idle talk and familiar bickering, the Princes rode into the night sharing stories with Bofur and Oín and sometimes with the Captain of the Dwarven army. For now, in the middle of the cold night, they could relax and think of this trip as a way to get back home and to fix wrong-doings. No one was ready to face what was to come, not even Thranduil and Thorin who were already sensing not everything was right in their world.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of part 1 !!!  
> So, the part 1 of the story is officially over! Thranduil and Thorin got to meet one another, some of the most important aspects of each one of them were reveal and the second part would bring more drama, war and naughty times with Thranduil and Thorin.
> 
> Next chapter Thorin finds out Dáin is in trouble, Thranduil gets desperate after saving Thorin's live and Thorin gets jealous over the leader of the Elves of Dorwinion that seem rather found of flirting with Thranduil.


	11. Before the Lands of the Sea of Rhûn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin and Thranduil are getting closer when danger strikes and they end up in the arms of the most unexpected saviors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second part is here!  
> This second part would explore the growing relationship between Thorin and Thranduil. It will introduce new characters and it will reveal the darkness that's lurking in the world. The Istari will appear as well as the Ring and everyone else, but enough talk, I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoy writing it. This is pure Thorinduil feels, and from now on it is all you're going to get. I do apologize, however, for my grammar and my spelling. By the way, last chapter I mentioned they would travel for two days, I change this to four days just so you know.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading the story and giving it a chance.

**Chapter 11**

**Before the Lands of the Sea of Rhûn**

 

Thorin awoke with a start.

He took a deep breath blinking a couple of times until his eyes fell upon the star-filled sky above his head. The dream had been so real, it had filled his mind with images of green and gold, of blue and silver, he could still hear the clear sound of elven laughter and the sweet touch of begging hands. The Dwarven-Prince took control of his erratic breathing sitting down while cleaning the cold sweat off of his face, the fresh breeze of the night cool down his heated skin his eyes moving around to beg no one noticed the state he was in.

Everyone was asleep, Bofur was snoring loudly a few centimetres away from him the light of the fire had extinguished long ago and only the light of the stars accompanied their slumber. Thorin stood up on shaky legs, rubbing the back of his neck while he tried to collect the memory of his dream. But, as usual, after a while all he could remember were brief glimpses or sounds the only thing still fresh in him were the emotions he wasn’t even aware he was feeling in the first place. As he dwelled into this Thorin felt a pull on his mind, without giving it a second thought, he tilted his head until his eyes fell upon the bright form of the Elven-Prince standing thoughtfully at the edge of the cliff. The Dwarven-Prince softened wondering why Thranduil was feeling so scare, so wishful and so lost; Thorin didn’t give it too much thought to the fact he actually perceived how the Elven-Prince felt, no to the fact he was making his way slowly towards him.

For four days, Thorin and Thranduil had shared the tension born of the kiss given in the tower and the conversation they never had. They had spoken, of course, but their conversations would usually include someone around them even their time alone was filled with uncertainty. Thorin had noticed Thranduil was evading him and the way for him to do so was to approach the warriors while they were deep into training or cleaning up their weapons and armours. The Elven-Prince neared them with a straightened back and expressionless face; his blue eyes would gleam while speaking, always on the brink of politeness and open curiosity. It had been a surprise for Thorin, Bofur and Oín, they were aware not many of the dwarves were overly fond of the elf, some would look at him with mistrust and annoyance, but no one actually dare to say or do anything against him. He was to be the husband of their Prince, after all. Thranduil didn’t seem too bothered by this, he had reached to the dwarves with the authority of his position but with the kindness of his people, he offered advice to those wearing the bow and the arrow while he learnt with certain incredulity the art of the war hammer and the axe.

Thorin never thought Thranduil would get closer to anyone inside the armed ranks of the dwarves. But, then again, Thranduil had been born to be a King in a world where no one doubted his position and everyone seemed to accept his leadership without a problem. It had been no the same in Erebor and only now Thorin gave this a serious thought.

Thranduil stood watching with his keen eyes the sight before him; the cliff rose above a naked valley leading to the Redwater River and the sailing city of the Northmen. The Elven-Prince watched with fascination the lack of dense nature, or the lack of forest-like trees and the clear vision he had in front of him.  If he were to focus his stare, he could see the gates protecting the human city and the dark silhouette of the river. However, Thranduil was not interested in the valley but in the sky, his fascination with the stars had become a known leisure in which he would sit peacefully to the side and focus his stare to the night sky above them. He did not sleep for the fresh air awoke his spirit in ways the mountain couldn’t; his contemplation of the world before him was interrupted, however, by a pair of eyes heavily focused on him. Thranduil didn’t need to turn to know who it was for his body reacted almost immediately to the proximity of Thorin. He felt a warm like no other, comforting and secure making him clenched his eyes close by the raw need that awoke inside him. He had tried for more than four days to close off any form of connection with the Dwarven-Prince but, either he was out of touch with his own instincts or Thorin was really like an open book not realizing of the bond forming between them.

“You look rather thoughtful.” Thorin spoke softly standing beside him, Thranduil turned to see those black eyes with a hint of honesty, concern and interest and Thranduil knew everything Thorin did, consciously or unconsciously, was done with undisguised intentions.

“I have never been so far east before.” Thranduil commented softly still staring at the Dwarven-Prince. “It feels different, it smells different…This lack of trees, the land looks empty.”

Thorin quirked a brow shooting Thranduil a funny look, “Smells different? Lack of trees? Haven’t you seen the other flora surrounding this place?”

Thranduil looked exasperate leaning closer to Thorin while pointing at the valley before them, “I have seen it, however, I have never been so far from the forest before. Only once did I venture to empty lands and it was not a nice experience. As for the smell, this place is filled with scents I haven’t experienced before. It is rather interesting.”

Thorin tilted his head curiously wondering what kind of experience Thranduil was talking about; he was soon distracted from his thoughts when he realized he felt peaceful. He found Thranduil’s blue eyes watching him and the Dwarven-Prince felt the need to get closer, a warm like no other surrounded his body sending pleasant tingling all over. Thorin furrowed his brows at the confusing sensations, emotions he didn’t know he had, that in a sense felt alien to him but familiar at the same time.

“You don’t need to worry about the lack of trees.” Thorin finally mumbled looking away taking a step back away from Thranduil. “Once we reach the Sea of Rhûn you will be able to see a forest in the distance, although, I believe that’s the only one you will see. Is that why you don’t sleep at night? You miss the trees?”

The last part was meant to be a joke, the Dwarven-Prince had his brows furrowed but his eyes were twinkling with laughter; Thranduil quirked a brow looking away from the dwarf while crossing his arms.

“That’s not what has taken my sleep away.” Thranduil replied rolling his eyes. “Although, I do miss the sight of the forest and, Valar forgive me, I even miss the sight of Erebor.”

“Erebor is beautiful.” Thorin replied not leaving room for an argument in his tone. “You elves are just odd.”

Thranduil snorted tilting his head to send an inquiring stare to the Prince beside him, “Is that why you are not sleeping? You miss the surrounding walls and the deep darkness of the mountain?”

Thorin snorted, “I do miss Erebor. But my lack of sleep has nothing to do with it.”

Their conversation fell into silence, with Thranduil incapable of taking his eyes away from the Dwarven-Prince who was looking pensive all of a sudden.  This was the longest conversation they had shared only the two of them, it was nice to know they were still capable of such little things.

“What has hunted you out of sleep?” Thranduil asked curiously. “The last time I check on you, you were snoring just as loudly as Bofur.”

“You were checking on me?” Thorin inquired blinking away his confusion while glancing at Thranduil, the Elven-Prince opened his eyes slightly realising he had revealed more than he intended to.

Thorin observed those beautiful features under the night; he noticed even if there was darkness around them Thranduil was exuding a light of his own. It was the ethereal aura of his people, and Thorin admired it while his mind wondered what it would be like to get lost in it. Thranduil opened his mouth to answer but he soon closed it again, there were no words he could use to explain that while everyone was asleep he would turn around to watch the relaxed expression Thorin usually wore when asleep.

“I had to make sure you were not being attack by some wild creature, the sounds you usually made let me think this.” Thranduil finally said looking incredibly serious, Thorin snort rolling his eyes.

“How nice of you.” Thorin replied dryly. “Couldn’t you just admit you like watching me in my sleep? “

It was meant to be a jest, but the sudden blush appearing on those fair features caught Thorin by surprised. The Dwarven-Prince widened his eyes at the time Thranduil looked away from him, it took Thorin a second to understand and he couldn’t help the smugness of his expression knowing this. He didn’t spoke to give Thranduil a moment to recover, but he was feeling quite pleased with himself, a glimmer of hope lighting up his heart.

“Morning is already here.” Thranduil finally spoke still looking away from Thorin. “The land will be filled with the light of morning and the valley would reveal colours of dying winter and coming spring.”

Thorin understood the sudden change of topic, he shot Thranduil one last glance before moving closer to the elf both Princes standing at the edge of the cliff. The Dwarven-Prince leaned closer to the edge surprised when he felt a firm hand wrapping comfortingly around his shoulder. Looking up, he saw concern and something else gleaming in those blue eyes.

“No so close.” Thranduil whispered furrowing his brows.

Thorin had many retorts at the tip of his tongue, he could tell Thranduil how many times he had walked on a narrow path in the mines, or those times he had leaned over the edge of the rails in Erebor. But, all he could do was step back nodding his head to the Elven-Prince.

The colours of the sky started changing slowly; the river could be seen gleaming in the fading darkness. The city of men was starting to take form and the valley was recovering the colours it wore during the days. Thranduil wanted to speak, he wanted to say something to the Prince standing beside him, and the Elven-Prince then realized words were not need at the moment only comfortable quietness and contemplation, thus he sat down still watching the valley with his heart jumping with joy when Thorin sat beside him grumbling about wild things and lack of trees.

* * *

* * *

* * *

The city of the Northmen was a construction made to be a sealing port, soon Prince Thranduil understood the men of the river had built their city in two parts. The port was meant to be a fortification, a place for the sailors and those who work on the deck. The City was located at the other side of the river, surrounded by protective walls and with the right distance to not be exposed to enemy fire if it ever approached them from the river.

The men were tall, dark-haired, with tanned skin and prideful bearing. They were of noble birth, even if they lived as fishermen and sailors at the brink of a river leading to two different Dwarven cities. The man that welcomed them was the Captain of the wall protecting the city; he greeted Thorin with familiarity and respect leading him and the rest of the dwarves to the house of the governor of the city. It didn’t escape Thranduil’s eyes many of the men around them were armed all of them shooting intelligent and calculating stares to the Dwarven army and to himself.

“Welcome, Prince Thorin to the Redwater City.” The governor, a middle-age man, spread his arms bowing to the Prince.

Thorin bowed back smiling a little, “Governor Dashwood, it is good to know you are still in good health. Thank you for allowing us entrance in your city.”

“It is always a pleasure to have you in the city, my Lord. Although, I have to say, your visit brings rather worrisome concerns to my people.” This time the man shot a quick glance to the army behind Thorin, his eyes delayed in the Elven-Prince who was looking at him with interested.

“It has been a long time since I last saw an elf, but I see my old age does not affect the memory of how beautiful they are.” Governor Dashwood said bowing to the elf. “I’m Igor Dashwood, my Lord, governor of the city of Redwater.”

“Prince Thranduil of the Woodland Realm.” Thranduil replied solemnly. “It is a pleasure to make acquaintances with you.”

“Indeed.” The governor shot another glance at Thranduil then at Thorin. “The ships are ready, my Lord. Your people from the Iron Hills are waiting, but before you go, I would like to cross words with you, if it is possible.”

Thorin narrowed his eyes eyeing the man in front of him, “Of course. Bofur, Captain Farin.”

Both Dwarves moved to stand beside their Prince, Thorin turned to them glancing at Thranduil for a brief moment before directing his attention to them.

“Get everything ready. We were given two ships, I want Captain Farin commanding one of them while I command the other.” Thorin turned to Farin. “You will take half of the dwarves with you and the other half on my ship. Bofur, make sure those soldiers from Drugin are separate as well.”

“Yes, my Prince.”

Dashwood, Thorin and Thranduil watched until Bofur and Farin walked away with the Dwarven army to the port. The man eyed at the elf with curiosity wondering why such a creature would be traveling with the Dwarven-Prince.

“I am to be part of the Kingdom of Erebor by marriage.” Thranduil finally answer the unasked question. The elf turned to Dashwood holding the man’s stare with one of his own. “Prince Thorin and I are to be husbands by the end of the year, it is only right for me to know everything that concerns Erebor and the Prince.”

“So, the rumours were right.” Dashwood scratched his chin glancing at Thorin with a worried frown. “I’m sorry my Lord, but I have bad news for you and your family.”

Thorin crossed his arms his face turning into a serious mask, “Speak then, Governor. What has you so suspicious of my visit? Why are so many men armed watching me and my people?”

Governor Dashwood broke into a tired smile, “We heard what happened to Khand. We sent help in the form of supplies and food to help them out but they never got the help they asked from Erebor. Your army…well, everyone is thinking there is going to be trouble down the river.”

“I brought the soldiers of Khand to protect Khand.” Thorin replied coldly.

“The fact you are here told me as much my lord, please do not think I am blaming you or even Erebor.” Dashwood said softly. “You have to understand while we do have our share of troubles, never before have we been threatened by orcs, wargs or even our neighbours.”

“Have you received unwanted visits by the orcs?” Thranduil questioned but the man shook his head.

“Not yet, only rumours.” Dashwood turned to Thorin then. “I’m glad you are bringing help because you are going to need it.”

“What else has happened? What kind of bad news you have for my family?” Thorin questioned.

“A few weeks ago Lord Dáin came through the river.” Dashwood placed his hands behind his back looking gravely at the Prince. “He usually shares a drink and a feast here before moving forward to check on the gold mines deep in the desert of Rhûn.”

Thranduil listened with care trying to place a face to the name; his mind soon brought the rough features of a young dwarf, a mixture of brown and grey hair, long beard and sharp tongue. The Elven-Prince also remembered interest and rather inappropriate glances from the dwarf; Thranduil furrowed his brows turning his attention back to the conversation.

“He left with a smile on his face and many words, as it was his costume. However, that is the last we heard of him.”

“What do you mean?” Thranduil noticed Thorin was suddenly worried, the governor nodded gravely.

“He arrived to Khand before leaving for the mines. But, that is all we know, in Khand the rumours of his disappearance are worrying Lord Orik and myself.” Dashwood leaned forward placing his hands on his belt. “My Prince Thorin, they are saying Lord Dáin has been lost in the dunes of Rhûn and there are rumours of another group of orcs being spot near Khand.”

Thorin paled looking away with his eyes moving restlessly, his hands twitched but he held himself from showing too much. Thranduil, however, could sense how upset Thorin was by the news; the Elven-Prince hesitated for a moment before he tried to reach for Thorin placing his hand on the dwarf’s shoulder.  Thorin tensed lifting his eyes to Thranduil just as a feeling of peace washed over him at the contact. Governor Dashwood glanced the interaction with curiosity, he lifted his eyebrows impressed but soon returned to the conversation.

“Prince Thorin, Prince Thranduil, we the men of Redwater heard many rumours brought by the winds and the river itself.” The man said seriously. “A storm is approaching my Lords, many are worried by the influx of orcs, trolls, wargs and other dark creatures we hadn’t seen in centuries. The fires of Mount Doom are burning once again, and darkness is all others can see coming from the Fortress of Dol-Guldur. The Dúnedain had been scouting the lands and meeting with the High Lords of the men, Elves and even Dwarves.”

This time around Thorin and Thranduil seemed seriously taken aback by this, Thranduil was thinking of his father and if, perhaps, he had really met with Arathorn and hadn’t even bother to mention it to Glorfindel and himself.  Thorin for his part knew if his father were to receive the visit of the rangers he wouldn’t have revealed it to Thorin but Fundin certainly would have done so. Could this mean the Dúnedain hadn’t reached Erebor yet?

“Lord Dáin is a fierce warrior, whatever happened to him then it must be not good at all.” The governor finally said. “Prince Thorin, my people held you and Lord Dáin in high regards, if you were to need our help, please send a crow or a messenger and we will help in any way we can.”

“I’ll do it, Governor Dashwood. I thank you for the news and the brief hospitality. I promise to extend my visit next time to show you my gratefulness.” Thorin said bowing his head slightly. “Your news are indeed worrisome, and I will part immediately to see what can I do for Khand and what can be done for Dáin.”

“Then, may the gods be with you.” Governor Dashwood bowed deeply at both Princes. “Go with the good will of the men of Redwater, Prince Thorin, Prince Thranduil.”

*****

The morning broke with a braising sun and bright colours of the land and the river, the Elven-Prince stood at the prow with his blue eyes taking in this new form of beauty extending before him. He had lived many years, had seen many things and had sailed during his stay in Lindir, but never before had he seen the river take into a red colouring or the changing land around them. The trees took on different forms and shapes, with their colours matching the intensity of the sun and the warming of the land.

“The river flows with strong iron deposits; this seems to give the colouring to the water, hence the name.” Thorin commented lightly standing beside Thranduil.

“Prince Thorin, you never cease to amaze me.” Thranduil commented lightly, his lips curling up in amusement with his face showing an indistinctive happiness Thorin had only seen directed towards Legolas. “Who would have thought you knew about such things?”

“I’m always up to surprise you.” Thorin sat down on the bowsprit never taking his eyes away from Thranduil who twitched to reach for him.

“Why must you sit so close to danger?” Thranduil finally said glaring at the smug grin forming on the dwarf’s lips.

“I am touched, Thranduil.” Thorin chuckled. “I didn’t know you care.”

Thranduil narrowed his eyes but even as his face change into an expression of denial, Thorin could see softening in those blue eyes accompanied by enjoyment.

“I don’t, but I am not inclined of your crew believing I threw you out of the ship when you fall from doing such foolish things.”

Thorin pat the small space beside him, his mind reeling in the banter between them.

“I won’t fall, come sit beside me.” Thranduil watched the spot offered by the dwarf tempted to give in.

“I much prefer to stand here where I can laugh at you when you reach the water.” Thranduil smirked at the roll of Thorin’s eyes.

They fell silent staring at one another, the sound of the ship breaking the water and the wind pushing on the sails; the dwarves were now rather restless and anxious of getting back home. The trip would last almost all day and Thorin was already preparing everything for their arrival to Khand, he knew by now Lord Orik must hear of them approaching the city and the Dwarven-Prince was hoping for a civil welcome.

“I was at the sea once.” Thranduil started talking surprising Thorin with the far away tone of his voice. The Elven-Prince glanced at Thorin before leaning in to stare at the water. “It was beautiful, my heart longed to sail in its waters, to feel the salty breeze on my face and the sun on my skin. My soul asked to be taken into a ship to the open sea and reach for the Undying Lands were the rest of my kin resides, where I will live forever amongst peace and beauty without suffering or pain.”

Thorin listened with care feeling a bottomless pit on his stomach at how wishful Thranduil sounded, for an instant Thorin thought of Thranduil sailing away and never coming back. But just as he was filled with sadness at the thought he felt something else, he felt assurance and comfort even if the words coming from Thranduil were speaking of leaving forever. Such contradictory emotions brought confusion to Thorin, but the dwarf soon shook his head to listen to the elf.

“I can still remember the bright blue of the sea, the white foam of the waves, the songs of the seagulls and the entrancing swaying of the ship.” Thranduil lowered his gaze feeling more connected to Thorin than before. He could sense the fear and the sadness and Thranduil wanted nothing more than to assure Thorin there was no need for him to fear anything.

“You should see it, Thorin.” Thranduil turned his head to look directly into the dwarf’s eyes. “It was a sight to behold. My heart and my mind were begging me to make the trip, to leave the dying lands of Arda and go beyond the shores of my people.”

Thorin held the elf’s stare and he spoke before he could stop himself, “What made you stay?”

Thranduil blinked at the question for there were many answers for this, his father had already decided to travel to Mirkwood and the world was still at war in danger of falling into the hands of Morgoth.  Everything changed then; they received help to face the great evil of Angband and Thranduil had been needed to help his father in the construction of a new Kingdom. Then, he had fallen in love and his heart was finally given to his son, the dreams of the sea had soon become  in wishful moments of peace in which he would remembered his youth and what could have been.

“I found many reasons to stay.” Thranduil finally answered without really knowing he opened himself to the dwarf sitting in front of him. “And then, as time passed by, I realized my heart would never be at peace in a place where I could not reach for those I have come to love.”

Thorin faltered at the raw emotions he saw reflected in those blue eyes, he looked away to the rest of the ship were many dwarves were talking animatedly, resting or looking at the landscape. His eyes soon found those of Bofur and Oín who were raising their thumbs at him with goofy grins on their faces. The Dwarven-Prince turned then to Thranduil who was shooting curious glances at him.

“You can show me.” Thorin said suddenly. “When all of this is over, you can show me this shores and show me the sea. I’m afraid I haven’t seen it yet.”

Thranduil smiled a real smile that almost took Thorin’s breath away, “I will think about it, as long as you don’t fall from that place.”

Thorin rolled his eyes, “I’m not going to fall. It is actually pretty safe and relaxing, you should try it once in a while.”

“I am relaxed and I do not need to do dangerous things to feel so.” Thranduil retorted. “In any case, as I see our situation, I believe we will have many dangerous endeavours ahead of us. Relaxation would soon be a privilege more so than a common occurrence.”

“Aye, it seems that way.” Thorin pursed his lips lowering his gaze. “We shall see what awaits us in Khand and then, we will set our path to the dunes of Rhûn. I cannot leave Dáin in the desert unless I am certain of his death.”

“We shall inform Erebor, then. I believe Glorfindel should be informed as well, I do not want Legolas to worry for nothing.” Thranduil tensed but didn’t move away when Thorin reached for him placing his hand on top of his.

“It will be done; Bofur will take care of it as soon as we arrive.” Thorin then pointed at the spot beside him. “Now, stop being a stubborn ass and sit beside me.”

Thranduil rolled his eyes eyeing the spot then at Thorin before giving in, “Such a wonderful sweet talk, Prince Thorin.”

“If you want me to sweet talk you, Prince Thranduil, all you have to do is ask.” Thorin replied cheekily.

“You are this close of me throwing you off of the prow.” Thranduil threatened Thorin who smirked at him shaking his head. Thorin wouldn’t tempt his luck for he got Thranduil to sit right beside him, he stayed wisely shut while Thranduil relax sitting by his side.

*****

Lord Orik could not believe his eyes when both ships arrived to the dock.

The afternoon had already fallen around them; the city was being illuminated by countless of fires on the posts above the city and the ones coming from the countless houses that made the city of Khand.  Lord Orik and his grandson, Narog, approached the newcomers with equally shocked expressions. Captain Farin offered a half smile and it was the young dwarf the first one to hit his forehead to the Captain.

“Father, it is good to see you.” The young dwarf mumbled with voice deep with emotion.

“Farin.” Lord Orik whispered and the Captain bowed to his father before stepping back to stand before the Dwarven army.

Many inhabitants of Khand had come to see the newcomers; many of them watched the Dwarven warriors with fear or challenge. The signs of the battle suffered by the city were still visible as the warriors and the civilians all wore some kind of weapon to their backs or their hips. Lord Orik stared at his son, his eyes flickering from the Captain to the Prince that was coming his way.

“Attention!” Captain Farin screamed and the Dwarven warriors all presented arms.

Thorin moved forward with Thranduil by his side and Oín and Bofur coming behind them, as soon as they arrived to Khand the soldiers sent by Lord Drugin seemed to form a close entourage around the Princes. Thorin glared at them ordering them to move aside so he could approach the Lord of Khand, the dwarves stood aside with some reluctance but all of them bow their heads as their Prince moved past them.

“Lord Orik.” Thorin started nearing the Dwarven Lord who was beside his grandson and other members of Khand. Thranduil looked around with his hands firmly planted to the side of his body; he took notice of the tension in the faces of the many people attending their arrival.

“Prince Thorin.” Orik replied back politely but detached from any other sentiment.

“I am aware of my tardiness, for this, I offer my apology to the Land of Khand and its people.” Thorin stood in front of Lord Orik locking eyes with the old Lord. “Dark and dangerous times delayed our coming here.”

Lord Orik glanced at the warriors standing behind Thorin then at the Prince itself, “Have you come to help or to submit us, my Lord?”

“I have come to keep my promise to you, Lord Orik.” Thorin spoke clearly, firmly with his head held up and his eyes as sincere as they always were. “Have I known my word was being broken, I would have come to you sooner.”

Lord Orik shifted conscious of the many eyes focusing on their discussion and the few ears allowed to listen to it.

“Khand is my home, my Prince. I was thinking of them, and only them.” Lord Orik whispered, Thorin stood closer to the old dwarf his right hand placed itself on the right shoulder of the Lord.

“Erebor and all those who are under his protection are my home and my people, Lord Orik. I am a Prince of word, behind me are the sons, fathers and friends born in Khand, trained in Erebor. They have come home to help protect it.” Thorin then offered a single smile to Orik. “What do you say?”

Thorin sensed Orik tensing under his hand, the Lord showed hopefulness on his eyes while he tried to glance in the faces of the seventy warriors behind Thorin. He turned again to Thorin and saw the same Dwarven-Prince of old, the one many had whispered would be great but none dared to proclaim out loud for fear of their King. Lord Orik could tell his grandson was shifting nervously, many were holding their breath and he knew it would be more difficult than what it appeared to keep everyone in the city content with Erebor.  But Orik didn’t want war, he just wanted Khand to be protected and his heart told him Thorin could be trusted.

The Dwarven Lord returned the smile, bowing deeply to the Prince, “Then , my Prince Thorin, Khand is yours.”

Thorin shook his head, “Khand is part of Erebor as much as Erebor is part of Khand. The city is as much yours as it is Erebor’s, Lord Orik.”

Orik nodded appreciating the wise words, everyone around them seemed to release a breath of relief many smiling faces started getting near to the newcomers and, at Thorin’s signal, the warriors broke their lines and joined their people. Thranduil broke into a small smile, watching many families being reunited and wondering how could Thráin hope to keep a hold on the other protectorates if he kept trying to pressure his people. Once again, Thranduil could see the love and respect Thorin kept earning with his subjects, and he understood suddenly why Thráin hated his son so much.

Lord Orik watched around while everyone seemed to calm their already agitated nerves, Orik stood beside Thorin glancing at the Prince out of the corner of his eyes.

“It would take more than this to make them forgive Erebor, am I right?” Thorin said lowly enough for Thranduil and Orik to hear him.

“It is your father they won’t forgive easily, my Lord.” Orik said turning with a serious expression to face Thorin. “I apologize for the words I send to the mountain.”

“Let’s not speak of this right now; it is a time to celebrate and to rest.” Thranduil suggested. “Tomorrow we can discuss this along with the news of Lord Dáin Ironfoot’s disappearance.”

Orik opened his eyes glancing at Thranduil then at Thorin, “You know about this?”

“Governor Dashwood mentioned this when we stopped there.” Thorin confirmed gravely. “However, Prince Thranduil is right. Let us speak of these matters tomorrow, today let us celebrate fight will not break amongst our people.”

Lord Orik offered his Prince a house to stay the night and a great feast and, even if there was still tension and uneasiness around them, the night was filled with light conversation and raw happiness. By the time the dinner was over, Prince Thorin, Prince Thranduil and Bofur and Oín were led to their quarters while Lord Drugin’s dwarves were giving rooms in the lower levels of the house. Thorin thanked Lord Orik as he entered the small living room the Prince shared with Thranduil and the others.

“I am terrible sorry, Prince Thranduil.” Lord Orik said sheepishly, “I’ve never had a guest quite as tall as yourself.”

Thranduil offered a polite smile, inclining his head with mild amusement, “Then it is a luck we elves do not sleep much.”

“Do not worry yourself, Lord Orik. We are not staying too long in here anyway, tomorrow we will council and decide what to do regarding the search of Dáin.” Thorin came into the room shooting Thranduil a half-amused smirk before turning to Orik.

“Of course, my Prince.” Orik bowed down shooting both Princes a curious stare. “Then I will bid you a good night, Prince Thorin. Prince Thranduil.”

Thorin and Thranduil left their room to join Bofur and Oín in the common living room, the mere construction of the house was something Bofur and Thranduil had not seen before. The rooms were made to face the living room, the doors opened to four different columns and decorations of different colours. The inside was decorated to accommodate the guest around the main table in huge square pillows on the floor. Thorin sat down on one of them rubbing the bridge of his nose in a tired gesture. Thranduil for his part approached the balcony his fingertips touching the velvety surface off the curtains before he sneaked out to watch the landscape from the balcony.

“So, what do you think? This was easier than we thought.” Bofur said sitting down as well, he frowned wriggling around the cushion. “I mean, I expected more fight from Lord Orik and the rest of Khand…Not that I’m not grateful we didn’t have to fight.”

“Lord Orik was not seeking war, Bofur.” Thorin said. “Tomorrow we shall discuss the new terms with the elders and Lord Orik,  he knows there would be consequences to his acts.”

“A pretty fair treaty, if I do say so myself. Well, at least they didn’t attack us or throw us in a hole or something.” Bofur flickered his eyes to Thranduil who was eyeing the cushions with mistrust. “You can sit, you know? These are quite comfortable.”

Thranduil lifted his eyes quirking a brow at Bofur who seemed rather sunken in the pillow he was in, the Elven-Prince soon turned his attention to Thorin who was trying to hold back his amusement.

“I rather not. It doesn’t seem very comfortable from where I’m standing.”

“You’re gonna stand there all night, then?” Oín questioned raising his brows. “I paid to see that, you can be an elf who doesn’t sleep but I don’t think you are one who can stay on his feet all night.”

“You know? I still remember the time in which all of you would speak at me with some trepidation and respect in your tone.” Thranduil replied dryly.

“Yeah, well, we remembered a time in which we thought you were and ass and then it turned out you were a rather good ass.” Bofur said shrugging grinning at Thranduil who could only roll his eyes. “Go on, sit. I bet if something were to happen our beloved Prince would jump at the chance to help you out.”

Thranduil glared at Bofur as he disappeared under a pillow thrown by Thorin, Oín snorted shaking his head while watching with a half-smile as Thranduil acceded to sit down. The Elven-Prince chose the pillow farthest away from the others but still facing them, he found this new position strange but rather comfortable he lifted his eyes to see Thorin’s ones twinkling with silent laughter.

“These are…agreeable.” Thranduil finally said reluctantly.

“Of course they are.” Bofur lay back with his eyes looking at the concave ceiling. “What are you gonna do about Dáin?”

“I don’t know about you but I’m still worried about the inaction from Khand. The dunes had always been a dangerous place but Dáin had never gone through this trip without a good guard.” Oín commented glancing at his friend.

“That’s what actually worries me. This attack may not be a coincidence.”

“And what happened in Long Forest might as well be connected to this as well.” Thranduil said following Bofur’s example, he was still glancing around him trying to find a fine spot. “I believe this sudden activity regarding the orcs and the wargs should be investigated more profusely.”

Thorin glanced at the elf who had just found the right position with his back resting comfortably against one of the pillows while he placed his arms on top of two separate cushions.

“Comfortable?” Thorin teased ignoring the mock glare sent by the elf, Thranduil tilted his head to see Thorin closely noticing the tension in his eyes, the wrinkles forming at the corner of his eyes and the tired bearing.

“You should go to sleep.” Thranduil finally said. “Actually, all of you. Tomorrow is going to be a long day and I’m afraid we will be facing the real challenge by the time morning is here.”

“I’m up for that proposal.” Bofur tried to incorporate making faces when he realized he could not stand up. Oín , Thorin and Thranduil all stared at him with a hint of exasperation and amusement in their eyes, but it was Oín the one who stood up to help Bofur up.

“Then, have a good night my Princes. Do sleep tight and don’t do nothing I wouldn’t” Bofur screamed before losing himself in his room.

Thranduil was looking less than impressed still glaring annoyingly at the place where Bofur had disappeared in.  Thorin stood up approaching the Elven-Prince stretching out his hand to him; Thranduil glanced at the hand then at Thorin.

“Will you need help as well?” Thorin questioned Thranduil rolled his eyes at him.

“No, actually I was thinking on staying here.”

“Why? You should also rest, even if your bed is too small to hold you, we can fix that.”

Thranduil lifted his left eyebrow at Thorin, “How?”

Thranduil was quite impressed at the quick work Thorin made of the pillows and the mattress of the bed in his room, he felt touched when he realized Thorin had made it so the improvised bed was close to the window facing the Sea of Rhûn. Thorin stood up rather proudly at his work, his smug smile making him look rather childish.

“See? It wasn’t that hard, elf.”

“How creative, dwarf. Did Fíli teach you how to do this?” Thranduil retorted only to narrow his eyes a little at the baffled expression on Thorin’s face. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“Fíli is quite a creative lad, this is a good idea.” Thorin said defensively crossing his arms.

“Of course and as soon as I see him I will thank him.” Thranduil replied smiling a little.

“But I was the one to do all the job.” Thorin murmured looking at the improvised bed. “And it was a rather good job.”

Thranduil was starting to think being around Thorin, at night, alone after the stupid dwarf did something rather touching was becoming a problem.  He didn’t even think about it until his lips were brushing the dwarf’s cheek, he stepped away concealing any emotion from his face, but this was unnecessary for Thorin never even turned to him as Thranduil spoke softly to him.

“There, now I have thanked you for the work.”

“Right, yeah, you…you’re welcome.” Thorin mumbled turning around and leaving the room in a hurry.

Thranduil didn’t even bother behaving the way his position and his race demanded of him, he dropped unceremoniously on the bed. He cursed loudly in elvish glancing angrily at the sky showing on his window, while it was true elves didn’t need much sleep as other races Thranduil suddenly felt rather exhausted closing his eyes he fell into a restless sleep haunted by black eyes, short beard and the low, deep voice of Thorin saying something he could not quite comprehend.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Thorin looked at himself in the mirror, his wild mane was untangled and fixed falling on his face and back and held together by a narrow band of mithril on his head, it was the crown of the warrior Prince of Erebor. He felt his clothes wrapped around his body by the weight of his armour with his sword held on his left side and his axe tied to his back. Thorin was ready to attend the meeting with Lord Orik and the rest of the elders of the city.  He hadn’t even bother to see if Thranduil was already up or no, his mind was still getting under control after the moment they shared. He still felt like an idiot for having run away from the Elven-Prince that surely thought him a complete and insensitive idiot who couldn’t held it together after a gesture such as a kiss on the cheek.

Thorin scowled to his reflection shutting his thoughts to centre his attention to the situation at hand, turning around on his heels the Dwarven-Prince left his rooms and made his way down the hall to meet with Lord Orik. It didn’t surprise Thorin to find Thranduil already speaking with Lord Orik, the Elven-Prince stood proudly at the centre of the room with Lord Orik, Captain Farin and young Narog all of them looking attentively to the elf who was speaking clearly with a hint of knowledge and detachment to them.

“Good morning, Lord Orik, Captain Farin.” Thorin greeted directing his attention to the dwarves first. “Young Narog.”

Thorin then turned to Thranduil offering a simple nod, “Prince Thranduil, it is good to see all of you here. I apologize for my tardiness.”

“It is fine, my Prince. I was merely informing Prince Thranduil about the situation in Khand and he was offering his words of advice.” Lord Orik said with a hint of approval.

“Shall we go?” Lord Orik said pointing at the door. “The funny thing about this is that the main council hall is right crossing these doors and walking down the path in front of my door, the governance house was built right beside mine.”

 Everyone seemed to follow the Dwarven Lord, Thranduil stepped ahead of the others ignoring Thorin completely while standing beside Lord Orik.

“The architecture of Khand is like no other I have seen before.” Thranduil made sure to put the right amount of interest in his voice without sounding overly excited about the beauty of the gardens, or the form of the arcs or the magnificence of the columns. Even the seven colours used to decorate the façade of the buildings were mesmerizing to the elf.

Lord Orik puffed out his chest grinning proudly, “It is, Prince Thranduil. It is an old style created sorely by the inhabitants of Khand. They find it easier to work on marble, limestone, sand and wood.”

Lord Orik spoke with his mouth as much as he spoke with his hands, the Elven-Prince observed this rather curiously while hearing attentively to the Dwarven Lord.

“There wasn’t much metal to work with, they had to be creative and thus this city was born. The wind pillars you see over there are actually made as lighthouses not only for the ships but also for the travellers coming from the desert and other lands.”

“It is quite amazing. The work on the stone, the intrinsic art behind the designs on the walls, the use of the colours, everything screams ability and dedication.” Thranduil turned to Orik with his blue eyes shining with honesty. “I regret not having coming to Khand sooner, but I’m glad I am here now, even amongst the terrible circumstances.”

“And Khand is happy to have you, Prince Thranduil. You certainly are like no other elf we have met before.” Orik commented lightly.

Thorin walked behind them with his eyes looking intently at the elf, they soon entered a white chamber with a single circular table with some of the elders already sitting there. Every single dwarf in the room stood up bowing until their beards touched the ground speaking in deep clear voice with the formulas meant for the Prince in Khuzdûl.  Everyone sat down apprehension showing on their faces as their Prince placed his right hand on top of the table looking around to the unfamiliar faces and the familiar ones.

“I want to understand what happened and why it happened, so let’s start for you telling me about the attack.” Thorin rested his stare on Orik; the Lord of Khand shifted starting the narration.

The events were narrated without hiding the gruesome of their lost, their sorrow and emptiness left after the attack. Orik was helped by the others to tell what happened; they spoke of a strange symbol on their attackers dark armours, they described the form of an oval crown with five pillars and the odd form of an eye as a base. It didn’t escape Thorin’s attention Thranduil was shaken up by this news, something that baffled Thorin for he didn’t understand what got the Elven-Prince so nervous. Orik finished his narration mentioning his duty as the leader of Khand and sending the message to Erebor waiting for a favourable answer from the King.

“I have to say you coming here was a complete surprised, Prince Thorin.” Orik finally said. “We were expectant of your father’s answer and you coming here gave us hope.”

“We know, however, this hope is not for free.” One of the older dwarves said watching at Thorin tiredly. “Name the price, Prince Thorin.”

“Are you willing to pay it without a fight?” It was Thranduil the one to speak; the Elven-Prince glanced around the table with his eyes gleaming slightly his hands wrapped on his lap.

The dwarves around the table shifted on their chairs, their eyes showed no kindness when they finally decided to pay attention to the elf. Orik tilted his head quirking his brows at the rest of his dwarves all who seen rather conflicted at having been addressed by the elf.

“It wasn’t our wish to fight against, Erebor.” Narog answered leaning forward. “Our desired was to protect Khand and provide the Kingdom. We only desired a fair trade.”

“Indeed, it is what we all desire.” Thranduil leaned forward slightly, his cheek resting on his hand while his eyes fell upon Lord Orik. “You were treated unjustly and you had suffered the price. Yet you seem to trust Prince Thorin or else you would have used your arsenal as soon as you saw us approaching the dock.”

“Aye, I do.” Lord Orik answered immediately.

“Why? I could not keep my word to you the first time, why trust me now?” Thorin inquired.

“Because you are like your grandfather, my Prince.” Lord Orik said simply. “And you did keep your word, if a little delayed.”

Thorin turned to Thranduil and then returned his attention to the rest of the dwarves at the table, he put the scroll on the table, the one he had carried with him with the signature of his father and the High Council of Erebor. Lord Orik asked for permission to take it to which Thorin waved his hand for him to do it.

“I have brought to you soldiers trained in Erebor to help you guard the city.” Thorin started. “However, you did get to put the council uneasy with your words which meant they decided you should send the same number of dwarves to Erebor for training and teaching, as it was established a long time ago.”

Lord Orik started reading the demands from Erebor, his soul returning to his body as he read the different demands needing only his signature to seal the new deal with Erebor. The Dwarven Lord’s eyes widened suddenly when he realized what was written on the document, his eyes flickered from the document to the Prince then back to the document.

“My Prince, this must be…this isn’t right.” Lord Orik finally said confusedly.

Thorin quirked a brow placing his hands on his belt, “I believe everything is in order, Lord Orik. We will forget this nasty business as soon as you sign the document.”

Orik was perplexed he returned his attention to the document realizing some of the conditions were the same ones they had before Thráin decided to change them. The few things Erebor asked in return have a price the Kingdom would pay for, or different articles they would trade along. It was more than fair; it was a deal made with partners and not with a city that almost betrayed their protector.

“Erebor is a vast Kingdom, Lord Orik, Elders of Khand, when it was established along with Khand and the Iron Hills as their protectorates the Mountain promised to protect them, to provide them and to be beside them the way these cities promised to serve Erebor.” Thorin spoke clearly, firmly and with honesty. “What you see in that scroll, Lord Orik, is the promise Erebor makes with you and your people once again.”

Lord Orik focused his stare on the Prince for a long time, his features softened while he stretched his hand to hold the quill to sign the document.  Thranduil hid his smile pleased with the way Thorin had been handling the tasks of his position, there was no doubt his people were already respecting him and having a great regard of him as a Prince and their future King. Thorin wasn’t a leader in the making, he was a King already.

“Wait a second, Lord Orik, before you sign this document there is something else Erebor like to ask of you.” Thranduil declared suddenly his words made all the dwarves present in the room turn to him in wonderment and, in the case of Thorin, surprised and mild amusement.

“What is it, Prince Thranduil?” Lord Orik spoke before any of the other elders would speak.

“Your architects and those you have working on the building of your gardens and the interior of your homes.” Thranduil stated softly. “Erebor would be grateful if you could provide some masters of this art to teach in Erebor and make the Kingdom even greater than it already is.”

Many of the elders blinked confusedly before such a strange request, Captain Farin had been beside Prince Thranduil long enough to know his interested was quite real and Prince Thorin would probably fulfill this request in a heartbeat. If Captain Farin were to be honest, he would do so as well; for all the stories about the traitorous nature of elves, Farin found Prince Thranduil was different, more likeable even in his strange costumes.

“You want some of our master builders to go to Erebor?” One of the elders asked trying to see if he had understood the request.

“Or, we can send some of our apprentices to Khand.” Thranduil said leaning back against his chair. “It is really of no consequence to us how it is done as long as they can learn the beautiful art of making such extraordinary fountains and gardens, and even some of the buildings inside the mountain.”

Lord Orik furrowed his brows he looked around the room and everyone seemed just as bewildered as him. “Will that be the only thing you add to this new treaty, Prince Thranduil?”

“I believe that would be all.” Thranduil replied offering a polite nod.

Thorin smiled his heart fluttering at the sight of Thranduil lifting his head in satisfaction, Lord Orik turned to the others all who merely nodded still rather surprised at the intervention of the Elven-Prince. Lord Orik signed the document, his hand moving swiftly to seal the fate of Khand once more. The tension in the room soon was replaced by relief, everyone sat on their chairs turning their attention back to Thorin who read the newly sign document offering a nod and a polite smile to the lords sitting around him.

“Now, Prince Thorin, I believe we should attend to your concern and ours regarding the disappearance of Lord Dáin.” Lord Orik mentioned gravely.

“Yes, I want to know everything you know before I take some of our warriors to the area where he was supposed to be.” Thorin commented furrowing his brows. “I already told Bofur to send word to Erebor that my return may be delayed for this. I need everything you can provide to me to go seeking Dáin.”

“My Prince, this is rather dangerous, you cannot think of going there yourself.” One of the elders said. “We were arming a group already, some of the dwarves that know the area to see what happened to Lord Dáin. But you my Prince should stay here and wait for the news.”

“No, I shall not sit here to wait for news. I will go.” Thorin looked around solemnly. “How long would it take to go from Khand to the port leading to the gold mines?”

Lord Orik thought for a second turning to his son then to the Prince, “You will be there by tomorrow morning if you are to leave by mid-day, my Prince.”

“If you are to go, Prince Thorin then allowed me to grab the best of our trackers and our warriors. I’ll go myself to show you through the dunes and find Lord Dáin.” Captain Farin proposed.

Thorin nodded briefly looking at Thranduil out of the corner of his eye, “I believe that would be for the best then. Let us not waste any more time.”

Captain Farin stood up bowing to his Prince while leaving the room with his son close behind, Thorin stood as well bidding good-bye to the elders of Khand until it was only him and Thranduil left in the room. Thorin had his back to the elf, tensing when he felt those eyes of his staring at the back of his head.

“You are coming as well, right?” Thorin turned slightly his black eyes sought those blue ones.

Thranduil tilted his head expressionless, “Do you want me there?”

“Yes.” Thorin answered sincerely.

“Then I shall go as well. I will get ready for another unexpected journey.” Thranduil stood up walking past Thorin but stopping as soon as the Prince called to him.

“Last night…” Thorin trailed off furrowing his brows, being honest with the elf in front of him was difficult because it meant his heart and his very soul would be opened to harm. Thorin had never trusted anyone enough to get that close to him. Thranduil waited patiently, anxiously, confusedly.

“Last night I have to leave or else, I wouldn’t be able to control myself.” Thorin finally said grumbling a little, crunching up his face at the admittance. It wasn’t what he was planning to say and yet, there it was. The truth.

Thranduil lowered his gaze turning enough for Thorin to see the side of his face, “I know.”

And then Thranduil left and Thorin was left with more questions than answers.

*****

Everything had been ready by the time mid-day arrived.

Thorin stood beside Thranduil watching the Land of Khand staying behind while they entered the calm waters of the sea of Rhûn. The waters were of a deep blue moving with the wind and the will of the ship breaking waves as it advanced further into its waters. Even with his keen eyes, Thranduil could not see beyond the horizon thus he turned his attention back to the city decorated with white and creamy colours. The Elven-Prince rested against the railing feeling the swift movements of the ship, while his eyes outlined the towers and the curvy forms of the city. His eyes could still see with clarity the streets or paved roads and the high towers, the columns and the archers decorated with forms and ancient writing. It was a sight to behold and the Elven-Prince would be lying if he said he hadn’t been enchanted by the architecture of the city.

The blue waters of the sea of Rhûn broke under the speed of the ship, the sails tensed with the blowing wind pushing it forward deeper into the sea and farther from the city. The sun was at its highest point kissing the creamy skin of the elf while making his hair gleam with ethereal easiness. Winter has already died in these lands and spring was coming with new life and new beginnings. Thranduil could feel it in the air, his body was starting to awake at the new sensations and the mind of the elf was, once again, distracted enough for him to forget it had been more than two months since he had given way to his heat. This, however, was not his main concern at the moment; his mind was occupied with the Dwarven-Prince standing by his side and the sudden interested of some members of his supposedly personal guard on accompanying Thorin and himself everywhere.

“Do you think it wise to have left Bofur and Oín in Khand?” Thranduil finally asked still glancing at the city.

“No, but if anything were to happen to me I trust only them to do the right thing.” Thorin replied he turned slightly to see Drugin’s dwarves standing at the other side of the ship occupied with some of the works on the ship. “Besides, I didn’t want to bring all the members of the Greenstone clan into this trip.”

“I do not trust them; there is something strange about them.” Thranduil furrowed his brows turning to Thorin.

“Aye, I do not trust them either.” Thorin took his eyes away from the Greenstone warriors to stare at Thranduil. “You should worry more about the oncoming sight, the desert is what you are about to face. A place with no trees at all.”

Thranduil crunched his face a little, an expression Thorin wasn’t familiar with. The Elven-Prince turned his attention back to Khand letting a sigh of longing escape his mouth.

“I much prefer the sight of Khand, it’s a beautiful city. Like nothing I have seen before.”

“It rather looks like Dale.” Thorin mumbled pursing his lips.

“It looks nothing like Dale. This is a Dwarven city, not a city made by men.” Thranduil replied blinking slightly, he could see there was more behind Thorin’s comment than what the Dwarven-Prince was letting on.

“Can you tell the difference?” Thorin asked facing Thranduil completely.

Thranduil stared at Thorin for a long time, he sensed there was more behind such a simple question, there were thoughts and conversations Thorin didn’t dare to share or start. The Elven-Prince leaned against the rail with his face turned to the Dwarven-Prince.

“Yes, I can.” Thranduil spoke softly looking around him for a brief moment until he locked eyes with Thorin. “You can feel the heart of the Dwarrows in everything they do, it’s a magic like no other. Men build amazing things, they had a purpose behind their acts but their heart is given to the people rather than to their own constructions. There is no magic but that of hope and a desire to endure through the years when they know dead is imminent.”

“Which one do you appreciate better? The heart of the dwarf or the heart of the man?” Thorin asked after a moment of silence, he looked away with his heart beating faster than normal.

Thranduil pursed his lips straightened up, it was obvious to him this conversation had taken a path he wasn’t ready to walk in. The subject of Bard was something he didn’t fancy having in a discussion with a bunch of overhearing dwarves.

Still, Thranduil knew he owed to Thorin, he owed Thorin the truth but…it was easier said than done.

“Does it bother you too much?” Thranduil finally inquired.

Thorin didn’t answer he merely quirked a brow facing Thranduil stubbornly, wondering just how they could have ended up talking about the subject of Bard. It had not been Thorin’s intention; this was one question he didn’t need answered.

“Would it mean something if I were to tell you that it does?” Thorin retorted with a question of his own.

“It would.” Thranduil responded.

Thorin shook his head shrugging, “It does bother me.”

Thranduil felt his heart fluttered excitedly, he kept his face expressionless telling himself it could bother Thorin for all the wrong reasons. The Elven-Prince placed his hand on top of Thorin’s shoulder he leaned forward with his unchanging seriousness present on his fair features as he spoke.

“I much prefer the hearts of the Dwarves.” Thranduil finally spoke, his heart beating faster at the closeness of Thorin. “I have discovered they seem to touch mine in ways men can’t.”

The admission was said softly with Thranduil showing emotion behind his blue eyes, the wind messed with his hair while Thorin stood in front of him not knowing what to say. Thranduil finally stepped away showing the ghost of a smile to the Dwarven-Prince, tilting his head to one side.

“Was that the answer you were looking for?” Thranduil inquired.

“It was an answer I…I do not know how to react to.” Thorin finally said the Dwarven-prince blinked away his confusion stepping back form the elf. “I believe I’m going back to my cabin to go over the maps Lord Orik provided us with, I…I will meet you at dinner time. I’ll leave you alone to your contemplation of Khand.”

Thorin left fast leaving behind a rather confused Thranduil; the Elven-Prince gave his back to the rest of the ship, Thranduil glared angrily at the water clenching his fists in frustration. He wished he could understand what just happened but the answer elude him as much as he started feeling rather foolishly for his answers.

“Prince Thranduil?” Thranduil tilted his head to see Captain Farin behind him; the dwarf offered a half-smile to him. “I was wondering if you would like to navigate the ship for a while.”

“Really?” Thranduil couldn’t keep his scepticism out, he narrowed his eyes but Farin merely nodded.

“Yes, you seem rather interested about it and the Captain of the ship is actually quite curious about having an elf so close to his ship.” Captain Farin nodded towards the bridge where the Dwarven Captain was glancing at them expectantly. “You certainly made a good impression with the dwarves of Khand and some of the Iron Hills.”

Thranduil hesitated his blue eyes turning to the place where Thorin had disappeared moments ago. He wished he could understand where all this frustration was coming from, why he felt the need to just assure himself and Thorin that whatever the hell was happening it wasn’t that bad. Thranduil wished things were easier and he wasn’t feeling like a damn coward at the moment.

“Very well, Captain Farin, lead the way.”

*****

Night fell with easiness.

Thranduil spent most of his time on the deck talking with the Captain of the ship and Farin discussing about idle things while easing in the relationship with the dwarves. Never before did Thranduil thought his opinions of dwarves would change, there was a time in which he hated them with a passion, in which he would not give them a second thought. He didn’t think of them as intelligent, appealing or even worth his time; and yet, after his father had broken the news of his engagement Thranduil had been forced to re-arrange his opinion of the race of Aulë.

“It suits you, you know?” Thorin approached Thranduil while the elf held the wheel of the ship. “You look rather impressive, as if you actually knew what you are doing.”

Thranduil beamed shifting his posture to be able to look at Thorin while still focusing his sight on the calm waters of Rhûn.

“I believe they are just humouring me, and you are just mocking me.” Thranduil replied lightly.

“I am, but I mean it when I said. It suits you.”  Thorin stared ahead of him, the sound of chatter and laughter coming from the lower decks of the ship. “Is it possible for me to tempt you with a late dinner?”

Thranduil stopped stirring the wheel to face Thorin, the Dwarven-Prince wore a strange expression on his face something Thranduil was trying to read but soon found himself unable to. He wondered if Thorin was still capable of reading his faces, the answer came as soon as Thorin lifted his eyes to stare at him.

“You don’t have to look so shocked or suspicious I just…” Thorin trailed off. “I shouldn’t have left so abruptly early today, your…your words caught me off guard.”

“They caught me off guard as well.” Thranduil replied looking away. “Lately, being around you is turning into an unsettling experience.”

Thorin nodded in agreement, his faced crunched up while he stared at the night sky, “I can make them bring dinner here, you know? You can still pretend you know how to sail while enjoying those stars you like so much.”

Thranduil stopped steering the wheel, his blue eyes shone with frustration and tenderness all mixed up in the fair features of the elf.

“Why do you do such things? Why do you try to…” The question caught in Thranduil’s lips when Thorin gave him a single smile.

Thranduil knew the answer to the question; he could read it in the dwarf’s face, in his eyes, even in the link forming tentatively between them.  The Elven-Prince shook his head letting go of the wooden steering wheel.

“No, today I want to please you.” Thranduil looked away standing closer to Thorin. “I know you enjoy the confines of a dining table and the walls around you, I know you want this to be private instead of an open-space experience. So, lead the way, Prince Thorin, let’s see what you have in store for me today.”

“I’m starting to think you’re overly fond of giving orders.” Thorin replied with a smile he couldn’t quite wipe away.

“Only because you are so good at following them.” Thranduil replied with a smirk falling into an easy banter with Thorin.

*****

Udrath Greenstone waited for the cover of the night.

He had been pointed by his Lord with the important task of righting the wrongs done to Erebor and to their clan. It had not been easy; Udrath had to select the best of the warriors amongst the Greenstone clan to carry the mission without being interrupted but also being ready to die for the cause. So far, patience had been their best weapon and now, in the middle of the Sea of Rhûn, with half the crew fast asleep and the other half drugged Udrath and the other five members of the Greenstone clan were ready to finish the life of Prince Thorin and take Prince Thranduil as a prisoner.

“My Lord Udrath, the explosives had been set into place. Everything is ready.”

Udrath draw his sword while nodding to his soldiers, one of them put two goblets from his pocket, each one with a red fuse. Another one put from his pocket a single bottle, black and heavy, the dwarf leaned on the stairs leading to the deck where Thorin’s room was located. Udrath smirked nodding once more and the dwarf dropped the bottle as soon as the bottle crashed against the floor a black, heavy smoke broke into the hall. Udrath’s eyes gleamed as he approached the stairs ready to go to the Prince’s cabin.

“It is time for us to make Lord Drugin proud. Set everything in motion; make sure no one but the elf leave this ship alive.” Udrath said disappearing under the black smoke while the rest of his dwarves set on to put the plan in motion.

*****

Diner had been quite the experience.

Thranduil was still in a world of possibilities and fears; he couldn’t deny he was enjoying his time with Thorin finding the conversation easy and entertaining. Both of them had the silent agreement of not turning this into something uncomfortable; nothing regarding Dale, Erebor or even the strange but growing relationship between them was mentioned. Instead of this, Thorin made sure to ask simple but meaningful questions to the elf. Something Prince Thranduil was ready to answered with a please smile and twinkling eyes.

They had already eaten and were now enjoying the sweet comfort of wine and ale, Thranduil was resting against a chair, with his legs crossed a hand hanging lazily at his side while he brought the wine to his mouth again. Thorin was telling him about the time he was forced to attend Dís conception of Fíli.

“It was terrifying.” Thorin finally said shivering at the memory; Thranduil eyed Thorin without really looking at him, his mind was attached to the memory of the time he had been deep into labour ready to give birth to Legolas.

“Lady Dís can be a terrifying dwarf.” Thranduil agreed with his heart tingling with longing, his mouth wanting nothing more than to ask Thorin if he knew it was possible for the both of them to create life.

Thranduil shook his head, furrowing his brows at the foolishness of his thoughts. He shouldn’t be thinking about this, not when he was enjoying such a comfortable conversation with Thorin. Thorin furrowed his brows looking into his now empty cup; he blinked a little as if something was bothering his sight. The Elven-Prince neared Thorin offering his empty hand to the dwarf with a half-smirk on his face.

“Do you wish some more of that ale of yours or are already affect by it?” Thranduil raised a brow in challenge, something Thorin replied with a smirk of his own stretching his hand to give his goblet to the elf.

“Please, I bet you I can hold my liquor better than you.” Thorin said making a face at how heavy his tongue felt. Thranduil had already turned his back to the dwarf approaching the table where his wine and Thorin’s ale was resting.

Thranduil served his wine while hearing Thorin behind him, the Elven-Prince lifted the bottle of ale stopping when his nose caught a strange scent coming from the bottle. Bringing the bottle closer to his eyes, Thranduil opened his eyes slightly at the sight of a single petal floating in the drink. The Elven-Prince turned around in time to see Thorin staggering forward before almost dropping to the floor.

“How much did you drink?” Thranduil questioned in a whisper, an unnecessary question for he knew Thorin had only drunk one glass so far.

Thorin fell in the arms of a worried elf who placed a cold hand on his forehead mumbling something in elvish. The Dwarven-Prince tried to incorporate but his knees buckled under his weight, as if by a spell the lamp in his cabin extinguished and Thorin found himself trying to clean his mind. The Dwarven-Prince blinked but his limbs felt heavy, his eyelids were dropping and he couldn’t stop the world spinning around him.

Thranduil tensed turning his head to the door; his ears twitched hearing noise coming from outside, his nose shifted catching the scent of smoke.  With a hint of panic, Thranduil realized he didn’t have his sword on him, placing Thorin on the ground while the Dwraven-Prince called weakly to him Thranduil made his way to the bed where he located Thorin’s sword and his axe.  As soon as the elf’s hand closed around the weapons he heard the door of the cabin opening.

Udrath smirked his eyes fell almost immediately on the form of Prince Thorin lying on the ground; the dwarf lifted his sword approaching the Prince slowly. His task would turn out to be easier than he thought. Udrath stared down at the Prince who tried to move while focusing his stare, his lips opened only to let the name of Thranduil scape his lips.

“Don’t worry, my Prince, I’ll take care of the filthy elf as well.” Udrath lifted his sword ready to strike Thorin on his heart when the dwarf’s hand was stilled by a cold, harsh grip on his wrist, the dwarf turned around to see blue eyes gleaming dangerously at him before he was thrown away.

A huge explosion was heard at the other side of the ship making the ship swing wildly on the sea while dwarves screamed on the outside. Thranduil growled dangerously as he faced Udrath with Thorin’s sword on his hand.

Thorin sat down holding his head, he could felt a growing headache and the acceleration of his heart. He tried to comprehend what was happening but he was still dizzy, his eyes lifted to see the glowing form of Thranduil dancing in front of him, his arm turning and swinging around with proficiency always parrying or deflecting another’s sword. Thranduil for his part felt cold rage run through his veins; how could they be so foolish? The Elven-Prince fought proficiently against the dwarf who soon was losing his patience as the outside brought the sounds of screams and several explosions.

The elf smirked, his eyes gleaming dangerously while his wrist flickered fast, his footing advancing until he had the dwarf against the wooden wall with no more weapons but the blade of the elf piercing slowly at his neck.

“Who sent you, _dwarf?_ ” The voice was cold dripping with anger.

“I don’t answer to filth like yourself.” Udrath hissed before spatting on Thranduil’s face.

Thranduil cleaned his face while his blade pierced deeply, the dwarf held back a moan lifting his chin in defiance. This could have gone like this for quite some time if it wasn’t by the next explosion. The ship faltered shaking without control as more screams were heard, Udrath smirked turning slightly to hit Thranduil on the leg. The elf snarled trying to get a hold of Udrath but Thorin staggered close to him wearing the axe Thranduil had dropped in favour of the sword. Udrath took advantage of this interruption to launch himself against Thorin, the Dwarven-prince was still fighting off the effects of the sleeping drug, he staggered again but his lips opened to let out a scream of pain when Udrath’s blade found no resistance on the left side of the dwarf.

For the second time Udrath found himself being grabbed by cold, strong hands that threw him against the closest wall. The dwarf sent by Drugin was about to move when Thorin’s sword pierced his abdomen in the midst of confusion and the smell of blood, powder and fire. Thorin blinked falling to his knees; Thranduil moved fast towards him his eyes going wide when they noticed the bleeding wound on the side of the dwarf. The only lucky stab coming from the dwarf now lying dead on the floor.

“You idiot.” Thranduil whispered placing his hand on the wound, the ship turned to the side and a smaller explosion could be heard, smoke started filling the cabin and Thranduil knew they need to leave.

“The others…” Thorin whispered trying to stay awake.

“We will help them, but right now you are my main concern.” Thranduil was trying to get his emotions under control; panic was filling his senses when he realized they were on the third deckof the ship that meant they were in the lowest part to even attempt an escape without facing the flames or the suffocation of the smoke.

“Can you stand?” Thranduil asked grabbing the sword with his left hand while grabbing the axe from Thorin, the dwarf snorted standing on shaky legs.

“Of course, lead the way.”

Thranduil was really tempted to smile, turning around he opened the door to the cabin feeling the warm of the fire hitting his face. His blue eyes could see the form of the flames ahead, an old fear sneaked inside his mind at the sight of orange and red, the sounds of friends and family screaming for help tried to overwhelm his senses for a second until a hand grasped tightly around his. Thranduil glanced down to see Thorin resting against the wall looking at him worriedly through daze eyes.

“Are you well?” Thorin asked through harsh breathing.

“My sword…I cannot leave without it, it was the last parting gift from my grandfather.” Thranduil whispered, Thorin broke into a half smile nodding.

“Then, let’s go for it. I cannot let my sweet, future husband to go without his sword.” Thorin said with difficulty.

It was not an easy task eve if Thranduil’s cabin was right beside Thorin’s one, the room of the elf had been raided but nothing seemed to be missing. The elf soon found his two swords still resting on the desk, he wrapped them around his waist just as he found his quiver and his bow. Once he was sure he had everything he needed on him, he turned around to see Thorin trying to stay on his feet, water was already at their feet an panic rose in the Elven-Prince once more.

“Let’s go.” Thranduil said grabbing Thorin once more.

Moving through the flames and the already consumed wood, both Princes could heard the sounds of some of the dwarves being consumed by the fire and the sound of fighting coming from the superior levels. Thorin staggered trying to shake off the effects of the drug he had gotten in his system while never letting go of the cold hand grasping his. He felt fear, but not his own, he could tell Thranduil was scare and Thorin would later on wonder just how he could feel what Thranduil was feeling when he wasn’t trying to assure the elf nothing bad would happen to them.

They walked swiftly evading the debris of the already sinking ship; they sought a way out clinging to rooms and fallen debris with the heat of the fire brushing their skin. Thorin started coughing the fumes that were getting to the lower parts of the ship while this started leaning to one side. Thranduil was looking rather fast for a way out but, even before he could find the opening leading to the outside of the ship, the last of the explosives blew up with a force that sent elf and dwarf flying along with the wreckage of the ship away.

Thranduil opened his eyes fighting against the heaviness of the water and his own tiredness. The only thing he could see were the flames of the fire consuming the ship, his right arm wrapped tightly around the chest of Thorin who was unconscious in his arms. The Elven-Prince felt a piercing pain on the left side of his face while his legs moved trying to help him get as far away from the wreckage as possible. They were in the middle of nowhere with the night above them and the cold water surrounding them, Thranduil swam until his legs were aching with pain and he had to hold onto the few floating debris of the ship.  Thranduil felt fear gripped his heart, the pain on his cheek was making him close his eyes having some difficulty to breath, but he didn’t give up. He couldn’t. Not when Thorin was depending on him to keep going.

The sun was sneaking out of the horizon with timid rays of light and hope, the sand under his back felt soft, a velvety texture tickling his skin while he turned around to see Thorin still unconscious with dried blood on his face and shoulder.  Thranduil whimpered holding onto his own pain as he straightened up; he didn’t know how much he swam or how long he floated on the water letting the current lead the way.

“Thorin…” Thranduil whispered tiredly, his mind opening slightly to reach forward to the dwarf and finding no response. “Thorin, wake up.”

His voice was horse and the Elven-Prince himself was losing consciousness while trying to reach Thorin’s one. Those hands of his, soft and long, cupped the Dwarven-Prince face putting it closer to his, the elf’s eyes going wide as his own drops of blood fell upon the untidy face of Thorin.

“You fool…wake up, please…you can’t…” Thranduil couldn’t finish his words he tried to shake the dwarf but he could barely hold himself.

“ _There is someone by the beach, my Lord!”_

Thranduil furrowed his brows lifting his face; his eyes were trying to focus the figure approaching him slowly until he saw a tall male wearing white and brown clothing, some kind of scarf covering his face while his eyes opened wide in surprised. Thranduil tilted his head and the last thing he saw before his world went black was an elf like no other he had seen before with deep brown eyes, bronze-like skin and long, light brown hair.

 _“An elf from the west…”_ The elf mumbled looking at his companions, his brown eyes turned to stare at the sea but there was nothing beyond the calm waters of Rhûn.

_“My Lord, they are gravelly injured, they need medical attention now.”_

_"Then, let’s not wander here anymore. Take them! we’re going back to the camp.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Udrath means mourner – according to the dwarrow scholar.  
> Thank you again for reading the chapter and the story.  
> The Italics represent the languages I don't speak yet, in this case, they are speaking in elvish.  
> I hope you enjoy the chapter, I know I promise jealous Thorin and, don't worry, you will have a chance of not only jealous Thorin but jealous/possessive Thranduil as well. Someone ask me on Tumblr if there would be some sexy times ahead for Thorin and Thranduil and the answer is yes, there would be some sexy times thanks to their encounter with the Avari. 
> 
> Which leads me to the final note, there was this prompt in one of the Tumblr blogs about Tolkien about the Avari, we know a lot about the Sindar and the Noldor but almost nothing about the Avari. This lead me to try and be more creative with them; however, I decide to do the race-bend (which in reality it wouldn't be much of a race bend if we really don't possess much information about the avari) when I saw a post on Tumblr doing the race bend on the elves. I thought it was interesting and something I haven't seen explore in fanfiction. It was quite a difficult decision to make because I'm just writing because I like and I know I'm not an expert and this could backfire, but I really hope you guys enjoy it.


	12. The Elven Kingdom of the Dunes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Princes wake up in a strange place, revelations are made and Thorin and Thranduil are getting closer and closer to the point of no return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! Thank you guys for reading, for commenting, for the kudos and the bookmarks. I really appreciate the support you have given to the story. I apologize again for the grammar and spelling mistakes and I hope you enjoy this new chapter.
> 
> Astalder – valiant one according to the Grey-company.org  
> Saesa omentien lle - 'pleasure meeting you'  
> Thúlon – quenya for Wind, male name according to realelvish.net  
> Erumion – quenya for son of the desert, according to realelvish.net  
> Mereth Lindalë - it is a roughly translation I did that may mean Music Festival.

**Chapter 12**

**The Elven Kingdom of the Dunes**

He was dreaming again.

Lost amidst a strange fog, hearing a clear familiar voice calling to him; Thorin stepped forward, always trying to reach the voice. His eyes seeking out the figure of gold and green, silver and blue; he tried calling out but his voice had been taken away. He tried to walk but he soon realized he was trapped, then fire, cruel laughter and the sight of Thranduil burning in front of him was all he needed to be startled awake.

Thorin gasped with his eyes fluttering open, his body twitching in alert while he tried to collect his consciousness. His mind was foggy for a moment but, little by little, he started recovering the memory of what happened to him before his world went black. He remembered the dinner he shared with Thranduil, the effects of the drug in his drink, the fight, the explosions and the fire. Everything came rushing in lifting Thorin from his position on the bed; the Dwarven-Prince grunted holding his head to stop the world from spinning around him. He waited even though his heart was soaring with need and his mind was flashing red alerts wondering where he was and where Thranduil was. It took him a moment to collect himself, he could hear sounds of muffled conversation, and his heart beat soothingly when he realized he could feel Thranduil was well and he was near.

“You are awake.” The voice coming from his right side sounded foreign with a strange accent. The Dwarven-Prince lifted his face to see who it belong to.

His dark eyes fell upon the form of a young elf wearing a sleeveless, light blue tunic with auburn hair and brown eyes; it was like no elf Thorin had seen before, even though he had the same pointy ears, the same beauty and ethereal aura around him, his skin was dark, like the bronze he worked on the forges. It was a wild beauty Thorin was not used associating with the Eldar. Just as he could not take his eyes from the elf, the elf seemed quite fascinate with him, his young eyes took in the naked form of his chest, the many scars covering his torso and the thickness of his arms. Thorin shifted slightly tilting his head while looking at himself then around the tent he was apparently in.

“Where…” Thorin winced feeling his throat burnt, the insides scratching uncomfortably as he tried to speak.

“Please, _Astalder_ , do not speak.” The young elf walked towards a tall table serving a transparent liquid on some cup before turning to him and offering the beverage.

Thorin narrowed his eyes, his fists were already clenched while his chest tensed readily for him to strike, the elf in front of him gave a hint of a timid smile while those brown eyes seemed unable to look away from him.

“It’s water for your throat. You have been unconscious for two days.” The elf explained offering the beverage earnestly. “Please.”

Thorin remained still for quite a long time, he kept watching at the elf who seemed rather fascinate with the sight of the Dwarven-Prince. Furrowing his brows, Thorin lifted his hand grasping his fingers around the wooden cup without taking his eyes off of the elf. The elf just smiled a hint of shyness gleaming in his eyes.

“Water.” Thorin confirmed feeling his throat being refreshed by the coolness of the drink. “Thranduil…where is Thranduil? Where am I?”

The elf seemed taken aback; he stepped back with confusion glancing at the opening of the tent then back at Thorin. This was enough for Thorin to move the light sheet covering his legs away and for him to stand on shaky legs. His eyes shifted to the strange baggy pants he was wearing and the bandages covering the wound Udrath had made before dying. Even as he was doing this, the thoughts of the dwarf would turn to Thranduil, his eyes soon tried to locate his own clothes and his weapons but dizziness soon caught up to him making his search useless.

“You should stay on the bed, _Astalder_.” The elf tried to stop him, but Thorin took a few steps forward until he felt a pair of hands on his shoulders, looking up he saw embarrassment on the young elf’s face and Thorin felt the hands on his shoulders bringing a cooling effect to his heated skin.

The elf smiled slightly tilting his head while he locked his eyes with those of Thorin, “You are the second Naugrim with such a strong bearing I have seen, _Astalder_. You are strong like a warrior and you hold yourself like a King. But you are still wounded, you should rest. I have sent word to the King to announce you have awoken.”

Thorin quirked a brow at the blunt honesty of the elf, he lifted his chin stepping back until the elf’s hand dropped to his side with a flash of disappointment crossing those fair features. If Thorin didn’t know better, he would say this young elf was quite fascinated with him.

“Thranduil, I just need to see Thranduil. Where am I and where is he?” Thorin asked again more firmly this time.

“He is well; he is having something to eat right now.” The young elf lowered his eyes. “You are a guest, _Astalder_. We saved you from the beach and the burning sun.”

Thorin furrowed his brows, these answers were not satisfactory; but at least he confirmed Thranduil was near. The Dwarven-Prince didn’t know how or why, but he could feel him trying to reach out to Thorin. Thorin took another step forward trying to evade the elf but he tripped only to be held, once again, by those firm hands.

“Careful…” The elf whispered pursing his lips. “You should rest; two days without eating can have some serious effect on you. Please, tell me what you need and I shall see it done.”

_“I believe what he needs is for you to let him recover on his own, and for me to come see him to assure him of my well-being.”_

Thorin straightened up almost immediately when he recognized the voice speaking in elvish, his face brightened up and relief filled his heart when he saw Thranduil standing by the entrance. Thorin was distracted by the sight of Thranduil to even notice the glare Thranduil sent to the young elf or the one the young elf was sending Thranduil.

Prince Thranduil approached both of them wearing a cold stare directed sorely to the young elf. Unlike Thorin, the Elven-Prince had been unconscious for just a couple of hours before waking up in a world of agony and emptiness. The first thing he had been aware was Thorin’s absence, it had hurt his very core not sensing the Dwarven-Prince closed to him. Thranduil remembered watching the healers of the elven camp attending to his wounds with worry written on their faces, Thranduil’s state had been worrisome for the elves, the Elven-prince had been cold and delirious, his own aura had been diminishing as time passed by and the healers didn’t understand why until an imperious voice had ordered for the elf to be taken to Thorin. It came as a complete surprise for the healers the improvement in the Elven-Prince’s health came as soon as his hand found that of the unconscious dwarf.  From that moment on, whatever wounds they were trying to clean and heal on the elf were attended with Thranduil being near Thorin. And the wounds started healing, slowly but surely.

Thranduil never thought, in his absence, Thorin would wake up or else he wouldn’t have left Thorin’s bedside. He couldn’t help the burning rage at the pit of his stomach and the anger filling his blue eyes as he stared at the young elf who still had his hands on Thorin’s naked torso.

“Thranduil…” The name rolled out of Thorin’s lips like it was the only thing that matter, Thranduil softened his expression approaching Thorin with relief feeling his heart.

The young elf pursed his lips but the glare sent by Thranduil was enough to make him step aside and leave the Elven-Prince to place his own hands on the dwarf’s shoulders. Thorin was about to comment on this but his face soon changed into a mask of pure concern and rage. Thranduil soon felt an electric jolt travel from his hands to his very core, Thorin closing his hands around his to try and get a better look at him.

“You’re hurt.” Thorin whispered just as his heart shrunk in pain.

Thranduil lifted his chin trying to conceal the bandages covering the left side of his face; he stepped back but Thorin squeezed his hand tenderly leaning forward. For a moment, Thorin forgot he wasn’t supposed to show how much he cared, that he wasn’t supposed to be so earnestly in his approaching of the Elven-Prince, he shouldn’t leave his face open to be read like a book even though he didn’t know what kind of relationship the both of them really had. Nothing had been said between them, there was only uncertainty and timid attempts of getting closer; still Thorin couldn’t help himself. He was worried and he felt guilty for what happened on the ship.

Thranduil was still looking away trying to conceal his own feelings unable to read the face of the dwarf whereas his real emotions seemed to overwhelm the Dwarven-Prince. Thranduil felt those fingers wrapping tenderly around his hand, squeezing lightly pulling on his hand.

“Let me see.” Thorin finally said but Thranduil was ready to step back. “Don’t. Don’t you dare, let me see.”

Thranduil clenched his chin biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from wincing under the sudden pain coming from his face. Thorin shot him a dry stare, arching an eyebrow at him.

“I can’t see it well if you stand as if you want to reach the ceiling of this place.” Thorin finally grumbled to which Thranduil couldn’t help but smile.

“Do you want me to hand you a box so you can stand on it? Or would you prefer to stand on the bed?” Thranduil couldn’t hide his amusement and Thorin rolled his eyes pursing his lips.

“I much prefer for you to kneel, it would make it easier for me to look at you and probably teach you a little about humility.” Of course Thorin meant this as a witty retort; something to make Thranduil squirmed uncomfortably.

No one was more shocked by the compliance of such a request than Thorin, he felt the blood on his face travel southwards when he realized in this position Thranduil was more accessible. Thranduil blinked boringly, his face a mask of nothing but sudden dullness; it was a simple act and, if Thorin had been capable of reading minds, he would have find Thranduil was cursing himself for complying so readily, his heart was beating fast while a huge part of him wanted nothing more than to be near the dwarf he almost lost in the sea. Still, even without reading the mind of the elf Thorin could see, he could read the tension on those fair features, the earnest Thranduil felt when Thorin’s eyes fell upon the bandaged wound. Thorin could sense the quickening of the heartbeat and the nervousness behind Thranduil; he was tempted to smile, but instead he decided to hold onto his own emotions showing only the concern he felt at Thranduil having been hurt.

Thranduil for his part was a pool of confusion and uncertainty, he glanced at Thorin but all he could see, all he could sense was worry. The dwarf was focused on his task, but he was once again evading any reading the Elven-Prince could do of his facial expressions or his own emotions. It was so frustrating to know Thorin could shut himself up so easily.  Still, Thranduil allowed Thorin the slow examination of his wounds and the caring caress his fingers brought to his face. Thranduil was even happy to notice the young elf hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of them with a hint of envy and wishful on his face.

“They are going to pay for this.” Thorin promised glancing directly into Thranduil’s eyes. “They are going to suffer for having done this to you.”

Thranduil felt his heart skipping a beat, he leaned against the open palm of the dwarf wincing slightly when his burnt skin stretch painfully. Thorin cupped his face soothing the discomfort while furrowing his brows.

“It is nothing.” Thranduil whispered but Thorin shot him an angry stare.

“They are going to pay, as soon as we are back I swear to you they are going to pay.” Thorin said through gritted teeth.

“It will heal; you won’t have to worry about scars…” Thranduil trailed off when Thorin pressed his forehead against his, the warm breath of the Dwarven-Prince brushed his skin and Thranduil felt strangely calm at being so close to Thorin.

“I could care less about scars, Thranduil. I only cared they got to hurt you and I allowed it.” Thorin stood away leaving Thranduil free to stand up; they both shook with overwhelming emotions filling up their minds.

Whatever moment they had been sharing was over as soon as it had started, Thorin was suddenly rather protective of the elf in front of him and Thranduil was suddenly very susceptible at everything Thorin might need. The young elf cleared his throat smiling weakly at both Princes while stepping closer to Thorin who was still naked from the waist up.

“It is good to know both of you are now awake and well.” He said with his eyes focusing solely on the dwarf. “Food it’s awaiting you along with conversation with the King.”

Thorin shook himself from the private moment with Thranduil, turning around he realized the young elf was still there and his eyes were now completely focused on him. The Dwarven-Prince was still weak, his stomach grumbling at the mention of food. Thorin bowed politely to the elf without noticing the slow change in Thranduil who was trying to scare the other elf off with his powerful glare. The Elven-Prince simply didn’t like the way the elf was paying attention to Thorin.

“Thank you...I’m afraid I seem to forget my manners after such a long rest.” Thorin commented giving a half-smile. “I believe you may know my name, yet I haven’t had the pleasure of knowing yours.

“There is nothing you should apologize for, _Astalder_.” The young elf replied smiling back, there was a glint of mischievousness in the dark eyes of the elf who approached Thorin bowing respectfully to him. “I’m Thúlon, Prince Thorin, I have been given the pleasant task of taking care of you and whatever you may need.”

“Yes, thank you, young Thúlon, I can see you seem pretty attentive to all of Prince Thorin’s needs.” Thranduil retorted with a hint of annoyance on his voice.

Thúlon took his eyes off of Thranduil to stare at Thorin, “I take my tasks pretty seriously, my lord, attending to you has been a complete pleasure.”

Thorin quirked a brow nodding strangely, “I see, you have my gratefulness for this then.”

“Yes, my fiancé and I are pretty grateful for all the help you have provided to us. Now, if you don’t mind, I would like a moment alone with him since he isn’t aware of the dress code before going to see an Elven-King.”

“What dressing code?” Thorin asked perplexed.

Thranduil turned to him narrowing his eyes, "How about wearing clothes to begin with?”

“I do not think my King, or even me, would care for his current attire.” Thúlon chimed in with his eyes gleaming while staring at Thorin then back at Thranduil. “It is a hot afternoon, after all.”

The young elf smiled his eyes roaming around the exposed chest while his cheeks seemed to be tinged by a red colouring. Before the young elf could answer, Thorin  who was trying to understand what was happening, was hit straight in the face by a piece of clothing; he grabbed it with his hands uncovering his face only to be face to face with a very annoyed Thranduil.

“You can tell the King, young Thúlon, that Prince Thorin and myself will be there shortly. Now, if you please give us that moment of privacy I just request…” Thranduil spoke coldly with his icy blue eyes shooting daggers at the young elf. The young elf pursed his lips; he hesitated for a moment but someone calling to him from outside stopped whatever he was about to do or to say.

The young elf, however, let his eyes delayed on the form of Thorin just moments before leaving the tent, “Then we will wait anxiously for Prince Thorin to join us.”

Thorin blinked confusedly for a moment before turning to Thranduil with perplexity and annoyance, “Is there a reason you’re throwing clothes at me now? And, you shouldn’t have been so brusque with the kid, he was only helping.”

Thranduil stared at Thorin for a long moment before shaking his head and hissing to the Dwarven-Prince, “You are an idiot. Get dress and stop exposing yourself around. I’ll wait for you outside.”

Thorin furrowed his brows holding the piece of clothing Thranduil had thrown to his face; he glanced down at himself only seeing his naked chest covered by some bandages and the hair on his chest. He really was lost as to what the hell happen just now. Thorin shook his head feeling a growing headache just by trying to understand why Thranduil was so angry all of a sudden.

*****

The Dwarven-Prince soon put the linen shirt on; he crunched up his face when the shirt didn’t fit him quite right leaving some of his chest uncovered. The sleeves were too long for him to get his hands out; he grumbled folding the sleeves when Thranduil appeared once again from the strange opening of the tent.

“All right, I’m ready.” Thorin mumbled feeling stupid under elven clothing that was too big for him.

Thranduil tilted his head in appreciation, his lips pressed together while his eyes gleamed strangely, Thorin shifted uncomfortably under the intense stare narrowing his eyes when he saw the ghost of a smile on Thranduil’s lips.

“Not a word, Thranduil. If you laugh, I promise to find something embarrassing to threaten you later on.” Thorin grumbled the Elven-Prince broke into a smile his blue eyes were rolling up and down taking in every detail of the outfit along with the dwarf who wore them.

“I wouldn’t dare to laugh at you, Prince Thorin.” Thranduil said lightly with his voice filled with amusement and something Thorin couldn’t quite place. “I do have to say, though, you look rather appealing right at the moment. Have I known that dressing you in elven gear would make you so _attractive_ well, things would have been different a long time ago.”

Thorin dropped his mouth open feeling a light blush burning his cheeks whereas Thranduil merely smirked turning around and leaving the tent. While Thorin was still trying to grasp any form of understanding after such a comment, Thranduil was kicking himself with his face expressionless and his cold eyes still fixated on young Thúlon who was waiting for them outside. Why had he said such a stupid thing? Why did he even think it? Thranduil wavered under the weight of his thoughts; a part of his was trying to convince him that he was acting out of instinct that it was something deep inside him stirring in anger when the young elf had shown his appreciation for Thorin. The Elven-Prince glanced at Thúlon frowning when he realized if he were to place a name to his feelings, it would be like admitting he feared this young elf could win over Thorin in ways Thranduil was still afraid to claim him.

Thorin stepped outside the tent to be welcome by a searing oppression on the atmosphere around him, he blinked a couple of times with his eyes moving to the sky that was soon turning from the light colours of the day to the ones announcing the night.  Thorin lowered his gaze to see himself surrounded by tents of different colours and odd forms, all decorated with blue and red, black, purple and white with some different tones of brown and even yellow. The Dwarven-Prince took another step until his feet almost slid inside the fine sand where the elven camp was located. Thorin turned his attention to Thranduil who was looking away from him with his arms crossed, Thúlon was standing near them with a four other elves all wearing red pants, with red tunics and strange scarves around their faces.

“My dear Prince Thorin, you certainly look appealing in such clothing. Now, Prince Thranduil, _Astalder_ if you follow me, the King of the Avari is ready to receive you both.” Thúlon said gently with his eyes turning to Thorin from time to time.

Thranduil pursed his lips standing closer to Thorin, Thúlon smiled one last time turning around and walking ahead of them. The Dwarven-Prince glanced at the elves then back at Thranduil who seemed to be slightly bothered by something. Thorin bumped lightly against Thranduil who glanced down at him in wonderment.

“Don’t make that face, I can see it’s hurting the wounds on your cheek when you tense so much.” Thorin spoke softly his brows furrowing in worry. “What has you so irritated all of a sudden?”

Thranduil opened his eyes in surprise walking slowly as both Princes followed their guard through the elven camp. It still surprised Thranduil how easy it was for Thorin to read him, it still surprised him how he could not read Thorin for the Dwarven-Prince had always been a great enigma to him. Ever since their first meeting up until now.

“It is nothing. I’m tired, that’s all.” Thranduil replied.

“Hn, I didn’t know elves could get tired.” Thorin said softly looking around the compound.

“We don’t.” Thranduil smiled softly at Thorin nodding at the landscape around them. “Do not mind me, my tiredness has nothing to do with my wounds and everything to do with me being worried about you.”

“You were worried about me?” Thorin couldn’t hide the shock from his voice, still he smiled satisfied. “I didn’t know you care.”

Thranduil rolled his eyes wincing slightly, “Shut up and enjoy the landscape, this is like nothing I have seen before now.”

The Dwarven-Prince smiled smugly walking right behind their hosts with Thranduil moving a tad bit closer to him.

Just as Thranduil had suggested, Thorin looked around to the landscape surrounding them. He watched the different elves, male and female, working on their everyday life. Some of them would shoot curious stares at the newcomers but, most of them, seemed pretty busy with some sort of preparations. They were smiling, they were singing and soon Thorin found himself wrapped in the magic of the elven camp; his heart longing for the golden dunes of sand, for the magnificence of the sun crowning the sky or the touch of the wind on his skin. Thoughts of the strange land were soon replaced with admiration from what Thorin saw, the working females and males walking around wearing light clothing moving through the land with ease, their hands busy building or fixing strange objects in their hands with young elves, no much older than Legolas, walking around with vessels made of clay and cups of the same material serving fresh beverages for those who were working under the sun.

One of them lifted her eyes glancing at Thorin with undisguised surprise; she approached him smiling broadly at him while serving some of the drink on the cup. She spoke and her voice was sweet and covered with innocent interest behind her actions. Thorin tried to smile through his confusion not understanding a single word she had uttered, the smile on the young elf soon turned into something serious as Thranduil approached them.

“She is offering you water, she says you look as if you need it even though you seem like such a strong son of the mountain.” Thranduil spoke softly with only a hint of exasperation in his tone, Thorin turned to Thranduil who was glancing at the young elf with a polite expression.

“Thank you.” Thorin replied grabbing the cup while drinking some of the offered water. The she-elf smiled nodding before taking the cup and walking away.

“It seems, Master Dwarf, you are the main attraction to the young elves living around here.” Thranduil stated turning around to continue walking down the improvised streets.

Thorin furrowed his brows looking back and finding the same female looking back at him only to have her engaged one of her friends in an animatedly conversation. The Dwarven-Prince turned his attention back to Thranduil sensing some form of discomfort coming from the Elven-Prince, hurrying his footsteps he stood beside Thranduil tilting his head to look up at the elf.

“Does it bother you?” Thorin fixed his sleeves to give Thranduil a moment to answer his question; the Elven-Prince softened his expression tilting his head to stare at the guards that were waiting for them.

“That you are gathering so much attention amongst my kin?” Thranduil felt the sun on his face, the dry wind brushing his skin. “What would you do if I told you it does?”

Thorin considered his answer, he realized lately their conversations had been a game of mouse and cat; they had been dancing around one another without anything clear but the fear of what might happened if one or the other took the final step. Thorin had his conversations with Dwalin, Bilbo and Dís fresh in his mind, he knew what he felt for Thranduil had been growing and changing as the days passed by and every time he was close to Thranduil his feeling turned stronger for the elf. But, did Thranduil feel the same? It was the only feeling, the only emotion Thorin could not read clearly on the Elven-Prince.

“I would tell you there is nothing to worry about, while your kin is fair and enchanting, there seems to be only one elf that has my complete attention.” Thorin answered casually stepping forward to continue their walk.

Thranduil felt his heart beat lighter; his lips were trying to hide the smile that wanted to break on his face.

“I didn’t have the chance to tell you, how nice and different you look with these clothes.” Thorin commented before he could stop himself, Thranduil lowered his gaze his lips drawing a small smile welcoming the light conversation and the proximity of the dwarf.

“Do you think so? These clothes are not what I’m used to; they feel strange yet rather comforting and refreshing under this weather.”

“I meant it.” Thorin gazed at the baggy pants of a pure white and the strange form of the close shirt with a deep blue matching Thranduil’s eyes. The clothes had been made to fit the Elven-Prince, not only in the clear colours but also in the elegant material and the royal needlework.

“The shirt, it matches your eyes.” Thorin finally said taking a deep breath when their guards stopped in front of a small corridor made of wooden pillars and a tense cloth above them.

Thúlon approached the Princes with a blank expression and polite smile, “My Lords, this is the tent of the King. Food and the company of the Lord of the Avari await you inside.”

“You’re not coming with us?” Thorin asked watching as the guards placed themselves alongside the entrance, their spears standing perfectly at their sides.

“It pleases me, my Lord Thorin, you think I should join you.” The young elf said showing a pleasant smile. “However, my duties lied with the oncoming festival and thus I won’t be able to share the meal with you.”

“Then, I shall thank you for the help and bringing us here.” Thorin bowed his head sensing the tension coming from Thranduil.

“It was my pleasure, _Astalder._ If you were to need something do not hesitate to ask for me.”

“We won’t forget your hospitality or to seek you out if it is necessary, young Thúlon.” Thranduil intervened placing a hand on top of Thorin’s shoulder.

The Dwarven-Prince quirked a brow at Thranduil before turning his attention back to Thúlon who was glancing at Thranduil with a tinge of anger in his eyes. Thranduil smiled but his smile was cold and almost challenging while his fingertips made a strange twist to play with the dark locks of the Dwarven-Prince.

“I certainly thank you for that, Prince Thúlon, and you can be certain I will call for you. Now, if you excuse me I believe we cannot leave the King waiting.” Thorin replied moving away to shoot Thranduil a perplex stare, the Elven-Prince blinked innocently while Thúlon walked away not without shooting Thorin one last smile.

Thorin lowered his gaze thoughtfully with Thranduil walking right beside him, both of them faced the Royal tent and for the very first time Thorin placed his eyes on the home of the Lord of the Avari. It was different from anything both Princes had seen before, while they were walking towards the tent both had noticed the Avari of the dunes were nomads, travelers of the sand for the form of their camp. However, there was nothing improvised in the way they set their tents or establish their routine; it was as if moving from one place to another was part of their everyday lives. Thorin soon realized he was in front of an Elven Kingdom that didn’t follow the rules of the west. The tent in front of him was big, decorated with red and black of vibrant shades, the cloth was made of wool and linen making it stronger but fresh at the same time. The tent was held together by a series of cloth breadths combined with tension bars and sewn across them. The tent was set with poles place under the seams meant to tense and held the structure standing. It was a well-thought structure held together by the inventiveness of the elves and their will to make wonderful things.

The inside was not less amazing, the luxury was tainted with the simplicity of the decoration or the furniture. The same colours shone inside, black and red seemed to be the colours the King favoured the most.  It came also brown in every shade possible along with a strange wooden material Thorin could not recognize.  Everything inside was either made of wood, metal or the softness of silk and cotton. Thranduil glanced around realizing he was in the Throne chamber where the King was sitting on a chair made of golden threats and red decorations.

“Welcome Prince Thranduil and Prince Thorin, I am King Erumion and I am happy to give you a proper welcoming as honourable guests of the Avari of the Kingdom of Dorwinion.”

King Erumion spoke with a voice as strong as the wind and as gentle as a breeze; the Elven-King stood from his chair allowing his long, red cloak to sweep the floor as he approached them. Thranduil could not take his eyes off of the King, his blue eyes took utter care of examining those deep brown eyes, the long, dark hair, his fair features and the tanned skin. The Elven-King stood with his red cloak on his shoulders under this garment he wore a black thobe with a round collar and large, triangular sleeves. On his head rest a single crown of silver and red. The Elf approached Thorin bowing to him with his right hand to his heart, then he turned to Thranduil and Thorin could see both of them were about the same height, their eyes met and Thorin stirred with a strange anger forming at the pit of his stomach as soon as he realized what the King was about to do. King Erumion put his hands on Thranduil’s shoulders leaning in to kiss the elf on both cheeks; this caught Thranduil by surprised as much as it made Thorin want to rip the King’s arms off of him.

Thranduil could not take his eyes off of the King who was looking at him with the same impassive smile. The Elven-Prince knew as soon as he heard the voice, one of his saviours had been the King himself and Thranduil could not believe they had been saved by the King of the people of Dorwinion. The Elven-Prince always thought Dorwinion was a simple settlement of elves living at the coast of the Sea of Rhûn, not so different from the Silvan or the Noldorin, and yet here they were, in front of elves like no others he had seen so far.

“ _Mae govannen, King Erumion, I’m Prince Thranduil Oropherion_.” Thranduil greeted with his voice modulate almost inviting, his posture straightened while his right hand placed itself on top of his chest. There were still marks of red on the Elven-Prince cheeks after the kisses given by the King, but there was also something else inside the blue eyes of Thranduil, something Thorin could no decipher.

“ _Saesa omentien lle, Prince Thranduil_.” The King replied smiling softly, his attention was soon claimed by Thorin who could not take anymore the interaction between both elves and decided to step forward blocking the path between the King and Thranduil.

“I am Prince Thorin Oakenshield of Erebor and I must thank you, King Erumion, for your help and your hospitality.” Thorin answered bowing his head at the manner of the Dwarves, his voice trying to conceal the annoyance he felt at the obvious attention both elves were giving to one another.

The King smiled bowing back to the dwarf, “It wasn’t so much me as it was Prince Thranduil the one to bring you to the shores of the sea, Prince Thorin. Me and my people only offered you a place to recover from your wounds.”

“Then I have to thank Prince Thranduil on my own.” Thorin grumbled narrowing his eyes when the King turned to him with twinkling eyes.

“Indeed, but there will be time for you to thank him properly, my Lord.” The King turned around to sit back on his throne, he lift a small hammer hitting a golden gong resting on a table beside the throne. “For now, let us feast while we speak of the reason of your journey to such faraway lands.”

No sooner had the King done this, a group of veiled elves appeared from behind an entrance bringing with them a circular table, a pair of chairs along with food and beverages.  Thorin and Thranduil sat down sharing the table and the food with the King who thanked his people before they were left alone when the food and drinks had been set. Thranduil was still perplexed, he had sensed as soon as he crossed eyes with the Elven-King the status of the male inside their society. Much like himself, the King was an Omega, a child-bearer, someone who still held the crown on his head and governed amongst people who seemed ready to obey. Thranduil lifted his eyes to see the King glancing at him with wonderment, Thorin for his part was shifting restlessly on the chair his eyes never once leaving Thranduil.

The King however started a light conversation, he engaged both Princes in a brief but thoroughly explanation of the Elven Kingdom amongst the dunes of Rhûn. He spoke of the paths they traverse during certain dates; how they work on the materials of their tents and the many objects they held in their homes. Soon the King was speaking of their cattle and the production of food, how they would exchange some goods with Thranduil’s people and some of the men of the north. The King presented his Kingdom with love, explaining how important was for them the night filled with stars, or the rivers they found on their way, or the small oasis decorating the unmerciful desert. The food was being consumed while the voice of the Elven-king filled Thorin and Thranduil’s mind with images of the many ideas and situations the King spoke of. Thorin soon learnt even if they moved from one place to another, the King never traveled with his people if there was danger ahead. They were peaceful people but warriors at heart, always carrying weapons as much as they carried musical instruments or the loom.

It was also very evident for Thorin that Thranduil was fascinated by all of this. His blue eyes would gleam with contentment; his features would soften in a wishful contemplation. Thorin felt the air leave his lungs when he realized the Thranduil shot a lingering glance to the King, he clenched his jaw feeling jealousy raised in his mind. His own uneasiness, however, was soon sooth by the hand of the Elven-Prince placing on top of his almost by accident. Thorin was tempted to deny the touch, to pretend he didn’t want it but, as if acting on its own accord, his hand turned to make it possible to intertwine her fingers with those of the Elven-Prince under the table, like youngsters trying to hide their childish affection from an adult.

The King sighed satisfied allowing his servants to lift the empty plates from the table while placing three golden goblets on the table along with a jug filled with wine placed at the centre of the table.

“Please, my Lords, you are welcome to drink as much as you want, although I have to warn you about the wine of Dorwinion.” King Erumion commented jovially. “As Prince Thranduil can tell you, Prince Thorin, our wine is not meant for mortals to taste; however, I believe you will have not such a trouble.”

Thorin nodded curtly grabbing the golden cup being offered by the King, “Why are you so sure about this?”

King Erumion stared at Thorin for a long time, his dark eyes shifted to Thranduil who was highly entertained by his own goblet.  It soon was evident to the King even if they were closer to one another in ways not many got a chance to be, both Princes were hiding themselves from one another; the King smiled lightly shrugging.

“Your cousin, Lord Dáin, seemed rather resistant to the effects of our wine.” King Erumion blinked confusedly when Thorin and Thranduil turned worried glances at him. “Is something the matter?”

“You know Dáin, King Erumion? When was the last time you saw him?” Thorin questioned unable to hide his concern from his voice, his hand soon untangled for Thranduil’s one his reluctance to let go was soon replaced by the urgency of these news.

The King furrowed his brows placing his golden cup on the table, “Yes, I know him. I last saw him a few weeks ago; he was getting ready to go to the golden mines of Khand. What has happened to Dáin, Prince Thorin?”

Thranduil furrowed his brows leaning forward, “He disappeared, King Erumion. Prince Thorin and I came to the City of Khand on a diplomatic mission but, as soon as we arrived news of Lord Dáin’s disappearance reached our ears.”

“He left and so far the only thing we knew was he got to the Dwarven port but nothing else.” Thorin leaned back on his chair shooting concern glances at the table before facing the King. “This is the first different news we got since leaving Khand.”

“The City of Khand is almost a day away from the Dwarven port.” King Erumion stated. “I am to assume you suffered wreckage on your ship? Where is the rest of the crew?”

“We do not know. I’m afraid our situation is more peculiar.” Thranduil commented tersely.

King Erumion softened his features, his dark eyes centred their attention on the Elven-Prince just as his hand placed itself on top of Thranduil’s one. Thorin narrowed his eyes almost squeezing the cup on his hand.

“I can sense your uneasiness and your worry, you have been restless.” King Erumion leaned closer to Thranduil who seemed unable to look away.

“Yes, well, we have been through a lot of things.” Thorin grumbled interrupting the moment. “And, Prince Thranduil has been suffering my own anguish only because our Kingdoms decided to join us in a promise of marriage.”

As Thorin said this he too leaned forward placing his own hand on top of Thranduil’s knee, the Elven-Prince tensed feeling his ears burn with mix feelings of embarrassment and contentment. The King lifted his brows leaning back against his chair while letting go of the hand he had been trying to hold.

“A dwarf and an elf?” King Erumion turned to Thranduil who nod curtly; the King shook his head looking over at Thorin with interested. “Please, Prince Thorin, if you would be so kind, I would like to hear the story from the very beginning. You can start by telling me how come you have decided to join both our races to what happen in Khand.”

Thorin turned to Thranduil who looked back at him; they stayed silent for a moment before Thorin started speaking. The King listened with attention to the story guessing the moments of omission or when Thorin deemed it necessary to change certain details of his narration. Thorin told a brief story about the need to join Mirkwood and Erebor in marriage due to the growing danger in their lands, Thranduil would help from time to time and the king would listen while enjoying the taste of wine. In the end, the story-telling turned to Khand and the few troubles they had with the city before finding out about Dáin’s disappearance.

“We parted from Khand on a Dwarven ship with some of the best Dwarven warriors.” Thranduil continued the narration while taking a sip from the wine; his lips curled slightly recognizing the sweet taste of the elvish wine on his tongue. “We didn’t know there were enemies amongst them, a clan from Erebor sent some assassins to get rid of Thorin.”

“These are worrisome news; to have enemies amongst your warriors is a sign of high treason.” The King furrowed his brows leaning back on his chair. “Dark things are happening in our world, for what I can see. Your news only seem to complement the information I have been gathering regarding the Brown Lands and the borders of Rohan and Gondor.”

“What kind of news are these?” Thorin questioned with interested.

“There seems to be a great influx of orcs and other malign creatures in Middle-Earth. The rumours of a great evil being breed at the heart of Dol-Guldur only seem to fuel the rumours of the fires in Mount Doom burning once again.” King Erumion furrowed his brows glancing at his guests.

“I do not know about this, King Erumion.” Thorin placed his hand on top of the table his eyes turning to Thranduil who seemed rather worried. “The only thing I’m certain of, it’s I’m going to hurt those who dare to hurt Thranduil in such a vile way and that I want to see if there is a chance I can help Dáin.”

The King curled his lips with his eyes gleaming strangely, those dark eyes turned to Thranduil who was looking with open affection at Thorin. However, the Dwarven-Prince didn’t seem to notice this, he was merely focusing his attention on the King.

“If I had known Lord Dáin was in danger, I would have sent some of my elves to help him.” The Elven-King proclaimed. “I wanted you to know, Prince Thorin, while you were recovering I sent a messenger to the port, your people would soon know you and Prince Thranduil are well and ready to continue your mission.”

“We are thankful for this, King Erumion, my people along with Thorin’s friends and family would be happy to know we are all right.” Thranduil replied with a sigh of relief.

“There is nothing to be grateful for, Prince Thranduil. It was the right thing to do and I knew when I found you at the beach something else was at play.” The King placed his right hand on the table his eyes turned to Thorin then to Thranduil. “The gold mines are not far away, I will offer you my help in the form of warriors, provisions and transportation for you to reach the mines and discover what happen to Lord Dáin.”

Thorin opened his eyes slightly; a part of him couldn’t help but feel wary of this token of generosity. He pursed his lips arching a brow but whatever harshness he kept in his tone was soon erased when he crossed eyes with Thranduil. The Dwarven-Prince would never understand how or why a single stare from Thranduil was enough for him to lower his guard; he nodded briefly directing his attention to the King.

“If you were to be so kind, King Erumion, I would forever be grateful with you. At this rate going back to Khand and then trying to come back again would be a waste of time and I’m afraid Dáin has not the luxury of waiting any longer.”

Thorin was not happy with his answer, but he knew without his people and in a stranger’s land there was nothing else he could do. Erumion leaned forward; his face had taken into an expressionless mask even though his voice spoke of his great concern and his eagerness to help.

“I understand this, Prince Thorin. However, there is something you have to consider before you are free to leave Dorwinion.”

“What do you mean?” Here Thorin tensed frowning deeply.

“The desert can be a merciless enemy, Prince Thorin. To send you and my people out there without finding first what is at stake could be suicide.” The King spoke gravelly making sure both Princes understood the gravity of the subject. “Tomorrow I will send trackers to the gold path to find out whatever they can. In the meanwhile, you will have to rest here, recover and then be ready to part on this mission.”

“How long, King Erumion? I understand what you are saying but we too are running out of time.” Thranduil intervened. “This is a matter we should solve immediately for Erebor calls for our promptly return.”

The King softened his features staring at Thranduil far longer than either Thorin or Thranduil felt comfortable with, in the end; Thorin cleared his throat rather annoyed. The King shot an apologetic stare to the dwarf before speaking.

“Two days, only two days.” The King said then with a lighter tone he added, “In the meantime, you and Prince Thorin are invited to _Mereth Lindalë,_ you will be the first foreigners to witness this festival so meaningful for our people. _”_

“The festival of music?” Thranduil tilted his head in wonderment, the King smiled nodding.

“Yes, it is a festival we celebrate to welcome the new moon and the beginning of spring.” He commented lightly, Thranduil opened his eyes slightly feeling a sudden wave of dizziness hit him straight on his chest.

Thorin shifted leaning forward with concern, his hand lifting to touch the wound on the face of the elf. Thranduil flinched moving away.

“Don’t touch me, I’m fine.” He mumbled tersely backing away from the touch; Thranduil didn’t notice the hurt crossing the dark eyes of Thorin, he was too focused on what he just realized to notice anything else.

“You do not look fine to me.” Thorin replied aware of the watchful eye of the King on them, Thorin went to grab the elf’s hand but Thranduil moved his hand away rather fast.

“I’m fine; you do not need to worry, Prince Thorin.” Thranduil faced Thorin with an icy stare trying to make him back away.

Everything was crystal clear in that moment; Thranduil remembered the Winter Festival had taken place two months ago.  The Elven-Prince came to the realization that it had been two months since his last heat and he, once again, forgot this detail about his life. Finally, everything was falling into place in the elf’s mind. Now Thranduil understood why as of late he had been so sensitive to Thorin, why he sought out his company, why it had become a need to be near the dwarf and why his nights were filled with dreams and cold sensations. Legolas had noticed it first but it was Glorfindel the one to warn him about the consequences of the bonding between himself and Prince Thorin. Right now his skin was itching, his mind was begging him to give in and let Thorin touch him; but Thranduil couldn’t; not now when his body was seeking comfort and his mind wasn’t even made up on the subject.

Thorin clenched his jaw his eyes gleaming dangerously when the King also showed his concern and his touch was not denied, he moved back sitting back on the chair while taking a long sip from his goblet. The King frowned staring reproachfully at Thranduil while his hand placed unconsciously on the hand of the elf.

“Your wound seems to be bleeding, are you sure Prince Thranduil you don’t need help? I am sure Prince Thorin could help you out, if…” The King trailed off with his eyes gleaming with sudden understanding when Thranduil shoot him an imploring stare. “You weren’t aware of your situation…”

But the King had already spoken when his eyes crossed with those of the Elven-King, his whispered words were heard by Thorin who couldn’t help but feel even more concern and puzzle by the sudden change in the mood in the conversation.

Thorin furrowed his brows leaning forward, “Aware of what?”

Thranduil paled shooting Thorin a quick glance, “Nothing, it is…”

“Don’t tell me it is nothing.” Thorin tilted his head to the King. “What is going on?”

The King pursed his lips realizing too late he had revealed a secret not share between the Princes. Thranduil grabbed his goblet tightly feeling the heavy stare of the dwarf on him.

Thorin opened his mouth to speak, to demand for explanations but he felt drained emotionally and physically. His stomach was full; his mind a little fuzzy for the wine and his heart was suddenly itching uncomfortably.

“What is happening?” Thorin questioned one last time, Thranduil turned his head to face Thorin but he was incapable of answering. To answer such a question would bring a new set of troubles for them, Thorin didn’t need to know and Thranduil could deal with his situation.

Thranduil opened his mouth but close it again, Thorin lifted his chin his features hardening while he placed the golden goblet on the table.

“I guess then, if there are no more options, we will stay and experience this festival you speak of.” Thorin finally grumbled trying to keep his voice polite, even if his eyes weren’t kind with the King or with Thranduil. “I think I’m tired, if you don’t mind King Erumion I will take my leave and go to rest.”

“Of course, someone must be waiting for you outside to escort you to the tent arranged specially for you.” The King spoke still sitting down, Thranduil was frozen in place feeling the heavy stare of Thorin on him.

“Yes, thank you.” And without anything else to say, Thorin turned around and left.

Thranduil placed a hand on his face, his body was itching uncomfortably as if a thousand needles were going through his skin. His heart was demanding for him to go after Thorin, but his mind and his own stubbornness made him stay at the table of the King.

“I apologize; I didn’t know Prince Thorin wasn’t aware of your condition.” The King spoke softly.

“It wasn't your fault, I…I wasn’t aware of my own state.” Thranduil finally explained. “A lot of things had happened and I forgot my heat was so close.”

The King tilted his head wonderment covering his features, “Why haven’t you told him the truth about you? Why keep hiding something from the one you hold so dear?”

Thranduil opened his mouth to retort but soon closed it again, he clenched his fists shrugging.

“I do not know.”

The sincerity coming from such declaration made the Elven-King smile; he nodded towards the opening of the tent while focusing his attention on Thranduil.

“He left thinking you didn’t trust him.” Erumion shifted resting his back against the chair. “It is not my place to tell you what to do; however, if you are to take an advice regarding this situation, I would tell you to go after him and explain.”

Thranduil sighed clenching his fists while feeling a scorching pain coming from his face, he stood up placing his right hand on his chest.

“Thank you.” And with those words, the Elven-Prince left.

King Erumion emptied his goblet shaking his head, he remembered a time where he was young and he had met with his lover for the very first time. They had been just as stubborn as the Princes were right now; they thought they had all the time in the world but the world soon taught them time was a relative luxury even for those of the race of the Eldar.  

*****

Thorin allowed himself to be escorted back to the tent where he had woken up early.

He found it illuminate with a few lamps lighting up the tent with a dark, yellow colour. Thorin found himself in a circular space changed into a small space to live in; there was an improvised living room made of lower chairs and a round table, with only one high table where two different jars and two cups rest. The Dwarven-Prince moved further inside to discover a big bed with dark, thin sheets and full pillows; Thorin furrowed his brows taking off the elvish shirt he still had on, his anger was still fresh poking at his mind. He threw the shirt to the left clenching his fists holding back his frustration, all the energy he had been using after waking up had been drained by the last meeting. For Thorin was hard to admit he felt hurt when Thranduil recoiled from his touch, it had hurt him when the King, apparently, knew what was happening to the Elven-Prince whereas Thorin seemed to be in the dark.

He really didn’t understand why he was so surprised; it wasn’t as if Thranduil owned him anything, they had been forced into an uncomfortable situation and the both of them had been trying to work out on a friendly resolution. This didn’t mean they felt something for one another, or at least, it didn’t mean Thranduil felt something aside of friendship for Thorin. Thorin sighed sitting down on the bed, wincing when the wound on his left side stretched painfully.

“I’m such an idiot…” He mumbled looking down to the wound that was bleeding again; he looked around finding what he needed in another lower table to the right side of the tent.

“You’re bleeding.”

Thorin was proud of himself for not having jumped startle when Thranduil spoke from behind him. His shoulders tense and his movements turned harsh and clumsy, his hand grabbing the bowl with clean water and some bandages and a cloth to clean himself up. Thranduil held himself straight up, his eyes following Thorin as the Dwarven-Prince sat himself on the chair near the lower table.

“What are you doing here?” Thorin finally spoke, when he did his voice was cold with a tinge of hurt in his tone.

Thranduil swallowed moving deeper inside the tent; his blue eyes looked around before setting themselves on Thorin who was firmly in his attempted of ignoring him.

“Apparently, this is my room as well.” Thranduil gauged the reaction coming from Thorin, to his credit, Thorin seemed to be reacting fairly civilized to the news.

The Dwarven-Prince clenched his jaw lifting his face to finally face Thranduil, the Elven-Prince saw anger behind those black eyes, he saw hurt there as well and Thranduil felt his heart shrank in guiltiness and longing. Thorin stopped what he was doing tilting his head to face Thranduil completely.

“What do you mean? There is only one bed in here, this look more like a tent for one, not two. And it certainly doesn’t look like a tent for a dwarf and an elf.” Thorin commented rather icily.

“They thought it would be rather appropriate for me to sleep near you.” Thranduil finally said sitting down closer to Thorin.

The Dwarven-Prince snorted taking his bandages off of him, his hand moved to the clean cloth that was resting on the clean water. He furrowed his brows concentrated on his task of getting the wound clean, Thranduil observed this with care, his lips drawing a tiny smile while his blue eyes followed every movement. Thorin was aware of those eyes firmly placed on him, but he tried to keep with his task ignoring the Elven-Prince. It didn’t took him more than a few minutes, he glanced at his work satisfied, standing up to pick the shirt up and put it on himself once more.

“What are you doing?” Thranduil finally asked tilting his head to see Thorin grabbing a sheet from the bed, two pillows and making his way as far away from the bed as he could.

“You can have the bed.” Thorin muttered placing the pillows on the floor.

“Don’t be ridiculous! The bed is big enough for the both of us, and you are hurt you should lie on the bed.” Thranduil replied trying to not strain his face.

“Frankly, I don’t think there is a space big enough for you and me to be at the moment.” Thorin retorted dryly.

Thranduil lowered his gaze hiding away his expression, “Elves don’t sleep, you can have the bed, if that’s what worries you.”

Thorin threw the pillow down turning an angered stare to Thranduil, “You need to sleep, you are as hurt as I am. You should be resting.”

Thranduil sighed feeling a headache approaching him, his hand trembled when he tried to calm the scorching pain on his left cheek. He licked his lips gathering all the courage he could muster but finding himself being a coward. A whimper left his lips when his hand grabbed the side of his cheek and all he could feel was pain.

“Don’t do that.” Thorin mumbled placing his own hand on top of Thranduil’s one, the Elven-Prince didn’t know when Thorin had come closer to him but he felt sudden relief when the Dwarven-Prince started taking care of his wound.

Suddenly, Thorin backed away letting his arms fall at his sides. “I forgot you don’t want me to touch you.”

Thorin lifted his chin petulantly, crossing his arms while his mind told him he was being childish, he could almost hear Bilbo and Dís reproachful comments. But the Dwarven-Prince felt justify, for some reason, he thought he had a right to turn the tables on Thranduil for his sudden reluctance to allow Thorin closer to him. Thranduil sighed clearing up his mind; he opened his mouth to speak only to close it again.  

"I do not mind as long as you help me with this wound." Thranduil finally replied softly. "I apologize for my early comment, I just..."

The tension in the room didn’t diminish, Thranduil couldn't explain why he had reacted the way he did in the King's tent and Thorin felt a wave of protectiveness wash over him at the sight of Thranduil's wound. Thorin lowered his arms moving to stand in front of the Elven-Prince and forgo his pride to make sure Thranduil was no longer in pain. His face was a mask of pure concentration, his fingertips moved swiftly taking the bandage from the elf’s face; Thranduil didn’t want to see the expression of disgust drawing on Thorin’s face but when his eyes found those of Thorin all he could see was guiltiness.

“I’m going to clean it and then I’m going to bandage it again.” Thorin said softly turning to pick another clean cloth from the table, he moistened the cloth turning to face Thranduil and proceeded to clean the burn.

Thranduil winced recoiling from the touch; Thorin hesitated staring at the Elven-Prince until he calmed himself. Thranduil bit the inside of his cheek moving forward to let Thorin continued with his task.

“Amongst my people, I am what it is known as an Omega.” Thranduil started talking with a firm, detached voice. He opted to look ahead of him trying to ignore the dwarf standing beside him.

Thorin furrowed his brows tilting his head before replying, “I know of this.”

“You know?” Thranduil inquired shocked. “How? Why…Why didn’t you mention it?”

“Of course I know! Dwalin would have never let me into this engagement without giving me some basics on elvish culture.” Thorin grumbled focusing on his task just as much as Thranduil was focusing his attention on the table.

“I didn’t mention it because I thought this was something you didn’t want to talk about.” Thorin finally said. “He…he kind of explained to me what it meant to be an omega, it made me understand why father didn’t oppose to our arrange marriage.”

Thranduil tensed completely, this time around he turned to face the dwarf who could only furrow his brows while letting his fingertips hovered above the burn.  Thranduil grabbed Thorin’s hand making him turned to face Thranduil.

“You know what it means to be me?” Thranduil asked firmly, Thorin nodded briefly.

“I do.” Thorin softened his features, he turned grabbing clean bandages and returning to his task. “Dís confirmed this when she came to visit. I found it strange at first, and then when I found out you were no free to choose who you marry or who you love, well…”

Thranduil remembered the time he broke down in front of Thorin; his mind brought the memories of how Thorin had change in his behaviour towards him after a few days of them being engage. The Elven-Prince did wonder why Thorin had started behaving so kind and more approachable, but he never paid it any mind because his rage against Thorin and his own situation was still fresh in his mind. He glanced at Thorin with disbelief in his eyes, even when Thranduil was being a complete jerk to him, Thorin had tried. Just like he was trying right now to understand. To really understand what it meant to be like Thranduil, an omega, a child-bearer.

“Then I found father wants you, not because you can give him a stronger heir or anything like that but because he wants to live forever.” Thorin continued shaking his head. “Is it always like this? Have you come across to some mortal with such ill intentions?”

Thranduil blinked awkwardly, he looked away for a moment before answering the question, “It is more complicate than that, Thorin. It takes more than simply mating with someone of my race to gain the gift of an immortal life.”

Thorin furrowed his brows sitting down on the table admiring his clumsy, medical work on the elf. It wasn’t perfect, he wasn’t a healer and what he had learnt while being with Bilbo was a poor attempt to hold everything together. But at least now the burning wasn’t bleeding and Thranduil seemed more relax.

“Then, explain it to me. Tell me what this has to do with what happen early.” Thorin furrowed his brows placing his elbows on his legs. “I really want to know, Thranduil. I really want to understand.”

“Why?” Thranduil whispered his question locking his blue eyes with those of Thorin.

Thorin shrugged giving the Elven-Prince a half-smile, “Because I care.”

It was a simple answer; it wasn’t probably what Thorin wanted to say or what Thranduil wanted to hear. But the real feeling was right there behind those three words, Thranduil returned the half-smile. It was obvious for both Princes the other was tired, the emotions of the day and the recent wounds were still fresh and their bodies, immortal or not, were giving in the tiredness of the day.

“I want to tell you, I want you to understand.” Thranduil finally said. “But I’m not ready to tell you everything. Not yet.”

Thorin pursed his lips, before dropping his shoulders with a brief nod, “Very well, you can tell me whenever you want then.”

Thorin stood up stepping away when a cold hand close around his wrist, the Dwarven-Prince furrowed his brows turning to see Thranduil glancing at him. His fingers wrapped gently around Thorin's wrist.

“The bed is really spacious enough for the both of us, I’m tired, I do not want to discuss but I…” Here Thranduil trailed off unable to finish the sentence.

“You really are mad if you think I am going to sleep on the floor.” Thorin grumbled Thranduil let go of the arm hiding away his own smile. “You better stay on your side of the bed, I tend to kick and toss around during sleep.”

“It doesn’t surprise me; you seem to be a spoil brat.” Thranduil retorted standing up and making his way to the bed, he took off the tunic given to him while taking a white loose shirt and pants placed on the left side of the bed. “You don’t have to worry, elves don’t sleep much and they stay on their side of the bed.”

It was an awkward moment, another one to their share of awkward moments.

Thranduil made sure to turn all the lamps off before setting himself on the right side of the bed. His blue eyes could see Thorin clearly, still sitting up, with his hands on his lap a thin, dark sheet covering his legs. The Elven-Prince rolled his eyes realizing how utterly ridiculous and rather stupid Thorin appeared to be sitting at the very edge of the bed, as far away as he could from Thranduil. The Elven-Prince lay completely down, turning to rest his weight on the right side of his body, leaving his wounded face expose to the soft breeze of the night. He trembled slightly, the sensation of coldness and needles on his skin was still there demanding the calming touch of the dwarf so close to him. Thranduil closed his eyes trying to calm his own needs, he wasn’t ready, he was still afraid.

Thorin shifted on the strange bed, he looked around the darkened tent trying by all means possible to not fall into temptation with Thranduil so close to him. This was difficult over all when he realized Thranduil was facing him, with his eyes close and his fair features so relax and inviting.

“I’m cold.” Thranduil finally whispered with frustration curling under the thin sheet covering his body. The Elven-Prince never opened his eyes but he could tell Thorin was staring at him.

“I didn’t know elves could get cold. I thought you were made so the elements didn’t affect you so much.” Thorin replied softly looking at his hands.

Thranduil clenched his eyes close tightly, a wave of biting coldness went through his body with piercing pain going through his nerves, the coldness was just getting worse at having Thorin so close yet so far away. The first time he felt his heat in Erebor, a part of him had been aware of the forming bond between them; but here, in the middle of the desert, Thranduil finally understood there was not turning back from this. It was a matter of time and of Thranduil stopped being afraid before the both of them consummated what had already been set in their hearts. Thranduil shivered slightly wishing things were easier between them while holding onto his own pride of not saying nothing to Thorin.

“I don’t like sharing my bed.” Thorin finally said feeling stupid at such a comment,  Thranduil fluttered his eyes open, snorting at the unnecessary comment coming from the dwarf.

“How do you share bed with your lovers, then?” The question left Thranduil’s lips before he could stop it, he shivered and soon a warm filled his body, his heart soar with relief when a firm hand placed itself on his forehead. He turned a little to see Thorin glancing down at him with worry and tenderness.

“I do not have lovers to share my bed with.” Thorin finally said accommodating himself until he was on his back near Thranduil. "You weren't lying, you really are cold. In the middle of the desert."

The Elven-Prince hesitated for a second, he was so tempted to smile at the revelation but instead he concealed his emotions by facing Thorin. The Dwarf glanced at him through expressionless eyes, for a moment all they could share were stares filled with meaning, the Dwarven-Prince incorporate a little to take his own bed sheet off of himself and placing it on top of Thranduil.

“There, you crazy elf, now you can’t complain about it being too cold in the middle of the desert.” Thorin mumbled with only a hint of teasing in his voice.

Thranduil returned the smile fluttering his eyes close; Thorin glanced at him for a long time until Thranduil fluttered his eyes open.

“What is it?”

“I thought elves didn’t sleep.” Thorin finally mumbled Thranduil softened his expression, his hand twitching begging for the touch of the male lying beside him.

“We don’t sleep, unless we are tired.” Thranduil commented lightly shivering slightly, Thorin tilted his head furrowing his brows.

“Why are you so cold, anyway? Is it because you’re tired as well?” Thorin was honest in his inquires, he just wanted to understand and Thranduil felt himself give in. If only for that night.

“I’m cold because I’m in heat.” Thranduil muttered with his eyes still close. “An omega enters in heat on a specific cycle. Sometimes, when there isn’t anyone we have formed a bond with, it is just an urge to be intimated with someone, it is a painless sensation one learns to control as time passes by. However, when there is a bond between an omega and his or her partner being away from them during the heat can be painful.”

Thorin stared at the ceiling of the tent, his body was completely tense to the point his muscles were starting to hurt.

“Oh.”

It was the only thing he could say after a long moment of silence, learning Thranduil was feeling a sudden urge to be intimate with someone was not something he was ready to process at the moment. But learning he already had someone he had bonded with and was provoking such negative reactions on the elf made him slightly uncomfortable and sad.

“Then, you must miss your partner, Haldir, right?” Thorin asked softly tilting his head to the side only to find Thranduil staring directly into his eyes. Thorin swallowed nervously when he found himself the subject of such an intense stare.

“You are an idiot.” Thranduil mumbled earning himself a half-smile from Thorin.

“So I’ve been told.” Thorin replied softly, they went silent for a moment with not a single thought haunting their minds. It was a strange moment in which all there was between them was an easy tranquility.

“So, this is really mess up, uh?” Thorin finally commented pursing his lips, Thranduil eyed him for a moment before closing his eyes.

“Yes, it is.” Thranduil sighed contemplating the proximity of the dwarf and feeling his body ease in the comforting warm coming from Thorin. “I thought you were going to sleep at the edge of the bed.”

“Do you want me to move?” Thorin questioned not having caught the teasing tone from the elf, Thranduil opened his eyes in alarm his left hand closing around Thorin’s one.

“No, no I don’t.”

Thorin glanced at Thranduil nodding briefly, “Good because, as it turns out, I like this place better.”

Thranduil smiled softly before closing his eyes one last time, soon Thorin observed as Thranduil fall into a deep sleep his hand still firmly grasped with that of Thorin.

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

The morning heat caught Thorin deeply asleep on the bed.

The Dwarven-Prince woke with sweet images of his dream still fresh on his mind, his body felt completely light with his muscles stirring pleasantly after a night of good sleep. It had been years since he last felt so rest after a night of sleep, Thorin turned to his left only to find he was alone on the bed. He furrowed his brows remembering the company of Thranduil the night before, how fast he had fallen asleep feeling the comforting hand of the elf wrapped tightly around his. The night had brought some unexpected revelations and he wasn’t sure how he felt about them. On one hand, he felt honoured with just a tad of happiness at Thranduil having trusted him with his own secrets. Thorin knew how much must have cost to the Elven-Prince to reveal something as intimate as the _heat_ he was feeling the night before. On the other hand, Thorin couldn’t help but feel saddened by the fact he could not alleviate the sensation of pain Thranduil mentioned the night before, he felt helpless watching Thranduil suffered in silence perhaps longing for a lost lover or even for the loss of someone who was alleviating his urges like Bard. Or at least, that’s what Thorin was hoping Bard was, he didn’t know what he would do or how he would really feel if Thranduil were to be capable of bonding with someone else and that someone else was the King of Esgaroth.

Thorin stood up wincing slightly when he strained the muscles on his left side where the wound was still healing. He grabbed his side with his hand walking around the tent to find food on a table and clean clothes on a chair. However, Thranduil was nowhere to be seen and, unlike the day before, Thorin could not feel him nearby.

“Good morning, _Astalder._ ” Thúlon turned to the newly dress Thorin with a grin on his face, the sound of music was the first thing Thorin noticed just before he felt the warm of the day on his skin.

“Good morning, Thúlon.” Thorin answered back looking around with curiosity in his eyes, the Dwarven-Prince stepped forward turning his head left and right watching the clear, blue sky above his head without a single cloud on sight.

The sun had already appeared on the horizon, its golden rays covering the land where elves of all ages and heights were walking around wearing festive clothing laughing and speaking animatedly with one another. Thorin himself noticed his clothing was made to match the happiness everyone felt in the compound, the green and white of his baggy pants and open shirt brought to him freshness against the hot day. He glanced at Thúlon who wore a red tunic with dark, yellow pants his hair fell on is back with a single braid adorning his left side. The elf waited for him patiently under the sun with two guards escorting him. Right behind them, Thranduil came to Thorin wearing an equally open tunic of a deep blue showing the white, smooth skin of his chest, his pants this time around were a light shade of grey and his hair fall around his face and back unobstructed.

“Finally.” Thranduil said rather happily, he moved past Thúlon who narrowed his eyes at the Prince. Thranduil smiled widely at Thorin and the Dwarven-Prince couldn’t help but feel slightly apprehensive at the change of mood coming from the elf. “What took you so long, Thorin? I’ve been waiting for you to wake up for hours.”

“Well, you could have wakened me up.” Thorin replied crossing his arms, Thranduil lowered his eyes in a timid gesture something that baffled Thorin completely." How are you feeling this morning?"

Thranduil softened his expression, his heart fluttering with emotion at Thorin having remembered what they spoke the night before. He would never get tired of Thorin showing concern for him, it was something he had come to appreciate greatly.

"I feel better now, I think sleeping beside you help a lot." Thranduil finally replied accepting the hand Thorin was offering. 

“I believe, Prince Thorin and Prince Thranduil, that it is time for me to show you the wonders of my Kingdom.” Thúlon intervened stepping forward.

“Before I can enjoy them, Thúlon, do you have any news about the trackers the King promised yesterday?” Thorin questioned rather gravelly, Thúlon nodded seriously glancing at Thranduil then back at Thorin.

“Yes, Ada sent them out early in the day.” Thúlon offered a sympathetic stare to the dwarf. “News will reach us either late into the night or tomorrow, do not worry, _Astalder_ as soon as I know something you will be the first one to know.”

Thranduil turned around placing his hand on top of Thorin’s shoulder, he squeezed lightly taking the attention Thorin was giving to Thúlon away. The Dwarven-Prince furrowed his brows in utter confusion but completely pleased with this open Thranduil.

“Don’t worry, we have to be patient.” Thranduil commented.

“What happened with your rule of not touching?” Thorin finally asked quirking a brow.

Thranduil offered a half-smile to the Dwarven-Prince, his eyes lifting slightly to glare at Thúlon before he returned them to Thorin, this time around, with a softening glint in his blue eyes.

“That rule only applies to you, Thorin. It doesn’t say anything about me not being able to touch you.”

Thorin was left pinned to the space he was standing in, he glanced at the strange change in Thranduil how free he suddenly look. Even with the bandages covering his burns, with what had happened to them in the last couple of days, Thranduil was looking lighter, his face was beaming with the natural light of the Eldar, while his eyes gleamed with peacefulness. Thorin would like to think he had something to do with this change but he soon found himself sharing the same blessing as his companion. The music of the Kingdom of Dorwinion filled the arid atmosphere around them, it soon reached Thorin’s ears and the images of hunting and traveling filled his mind. Thranduil lowered his gaze to him, longing could be read in his eyes but this soon was replaced with bashfulness and uncertainty.

“Well, Master Dwarf, shall we go. I bet Prince Thúlon over here is eager to show us the wonders of Dorwinion.”

Thúlon set his face in an expressionless mask, his eyes staring at Thranduil with defiance. It was for a brief moment both elves confront their stares, until Thorin stepped forward lowering his arms to his side. Thúlon broke into a smile placing his hand on top of Thorin’s shoulder inviting his guests with a gesture of his hand to follow him.

Thranduil and Thorin soon found themselves drunk in the wonders of the _Mereth Lindalë_ , the festival of music consist on many groups preparing themselves to present a piece of music on the main square of the compound. Thranduil found himself wondering how come they never knew of this festival or why his kin had been so apart from the elves of the dunes. It made no sense when he found himself submerged in the magic that was Dorwinion, hearing the music or watching the work of crafty hands. Thúlon while trying to get closer to Thorin took his duty as a host seriously; he explained to both Princes the importance of music and the work of the hands. He told them for each tent there was a family story behind it, the colours were not chosen at random but actually meant something depending to which clan they belong. He told them how they cared for their cattle always asking for permission when they were to take the wool or the meat from them. Thúlon spoke of the dancing and in here he spoke directly to Thranduil, his eyes gleaming dangerously at the Elven-Prince who soon understood Thúlon was trying to show his dominance through his words and gestures.

“You must know of the dancing, am I right, Prince Thranduil?” Thúlon tilted his head standing under the shade of a palm, it hadn’t taken long for Thorin and Thranduil to understand the settlement of Dorwinion was never far away from the oasis of the desert.

“You dance?” Thorin inquired with a hint of amusement in his voice. “I didn’t know this or else I would have made sure Bilbo lead you to the dance floor and join us in the Winter Festival.”

Thranduil made a face shaking his head, “I didn’t dance that day for several reasons. However, our dancing differs a lot from the one I saw you and the other Dwarves engaged in.”

“How much different?” Thorin glanced at Thranduil curiously but it was Thúlon the one to answer.

“It is a game of dominance.” Thúlon explained. “Dancing it is usually made for a show of dominance and status amongst our people. Of course, there is dancing for fun, or to share a good time; however, when a festival or a special date is being celebrate, dancing becomes more so a ritual than anything else.”

“It is also a way to create the bond of marriage amongst partners.” Thranduil mumbled.

“Oh.” Thorin creased his face in consternation. “You elves are rather complicated. We Dwarves dance because it feels good, it is fun and we do it to enjoy ourselves. Our dancing has nothing of these ritualistic norms but is rather an enjoyment amongst peers and kin.”

“Perhaps, next time, you can teach me how to do this.” Thranduil said with a questioning tone.

Thorin nodded firmly, “Oh, believe me, I will. And you better be ready because all of them are going to make sure you enjoy yourself the way Legolas did that day.”

Thranduil smiled widely at the mention of his son, the memory of Legolas mingled with Thorin and his company, the way he forgo the traditions of his people spoke of how much he had allowed his son to be bound by the unfairness of their situation.

The sound of trumpets and a gong resonated all through the camp, Thorin and Thranduil turned to Thúlon who opened his eyes in surprised.

“I didn’t notice it was this late. Come now, my Lords, lunch is about to take place and the youngest amongst us are going to perform while we eat in the Royal Dining Pavilion.” Thúlon announced.

“How much younger can they get? I’m afraid I haven’t seen any children around, most of them seem to be the age of Legolas.” Thorin commented following Thúlon, Thranduil’s face fell looking at Thorin with a hint of sadness in his eyes.

“The Eldar do not procreate in the same way other races do.” Thúlon explained and he too seemed to be saddened by the question.

Thorin turned to Thranduil but suddenly the Elven-Prince was looking at the sky with a contemplative stare. Thúlon faced Thorin while walking beside him and giving the explanations the Dwarven-Prince was seeking.

“There is a reason why some males are capable of carrying children.”

Here Thorin looked out of the corner of his eyes at Thranduil, but the Elven-Prince wasn’t hearing or he opted to pretend he wasn’t listening.

“It is rather difficult for us to have children, even with omega males.” Thúlon explained. “Still, there are more chances of reproducing if we count with more individuals capable of carrying children. To actually be pregnant, to actually have children is a complete blessing and something celebrated when it happens.”

Thorin felt his mind working on a question; he stared at Thúlon for a long time aware of Thranduil still walking beside them. He opened his mouth and closed it only to open it again and pose his question.

“What happens when other races try to procreate with the elves?” Thorin felt his cheeks burn when Thúlon sent a sly stare to him. “I mean, what happened when an elf capable of having a child gets intimate with someone from another race? Is it equally difficult?”

“No, actually, it is easier for them to create new life together. You must have heard of Lady Lúthien and Lord Beren or even Lord Beleg and Lord Túrin.” Thúlon answered chuckling lightly at Thorin. “Why are you so interested in the topic all of a sudden, _Astalder_?”

Thorin and Thranduil both tensed completely, Thranduil was awaiting with anxiousness the answer Thorin would give and Thorin wasn't sure if he should answer such a question with honesty.

“I was curious.” Thorin shrugged looking ahead of him. “Think nothing of my inquiries, young Thúlon.”

The young elf furrowed his brows, his eyes falling on Thranduil who had his head lowered. He pursed his lips sensing this wasn’t the answer the Elven-Prince of Mirkwood was seeking. Thúlon understood then what his father meant by the complicate relationship between both Princes, it was something he could not understand over all when he could see the bond between them as clear as day; even with all his teasing and his obvious attraction to the dwarf, Thúlon would never dare to go beyond his innocent attempts at flirting. Still, a little nudge in the right direction would not harm anybody, right? With this thought in mind, Thúlon grinned with a plan already forming in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is, this chapter was really hard to write because I want to make the closeness between Thorin and Thranduil more real but also confusing for them. Thorin and Thranduil are getting closer and as this happens so will the doubts and fear. Thorin just found out there is more to be an omega that the simple fact of carrying children when one is a male. Thranduil and Thorin had met the Kingdom of Dorwinion and this is a freeform description of this place and the elves inhabiting it. 
> 
> Next chapter Thranduil and the King will dance and Thorin will have his own share of dancing with Thúlon. It will end, however with some Thorinduil and a night both Princes would forever remember.


	13. Broken promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin and Thranduil engage in three different dances that bring them together, some confessions are made and the Princes are enjoying their time in a foreign land before going back to their problematic world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are the best!  
> I want to thank you for the patience and for reading, liking and commenting on the story. This chapter took longer than I expected and I have to be very careful with it for several reasons. I really hope you like it and this chapter goes with a especial dedication to Tumblr friend Kryolox because she heard me panic about it once in a while.
> 
> I apologize, before hand, for my grammar, spelling mistakes.

**Chapter 13**

**Broken promises**

Thorin and Thranduil never expected this unforeseen twist of fate would be the last push they needed to take a leap of faith and break the promises of the past.

For Thranduil everything started early in the morning when he woke up side by side to a deeply asleep Dwarven-Prince. Their hands were still intertwined, but Thorin seemed to be tensed trying to get away from the closeness while still keeping their hands joined. Thranduil almost threw Thorin off of the bed by the speed in which he stood up rather horrified by what he had done during the night. His body trembled in protests while his heart was begging him to go back to where he was. However, The Elven-Prince could not go back to where he was, he had identified almost immediately the emotion he was feeling the moment he woke up. He knew it wasn’t arousal, it wasn’t lust…it wasn’t even his heat…It was something deeper, more pure and dangerous, something he promised himself to never feel again.

Thranduil ran before his mind would betray him in the way his heart did, he ran before he could put a name to his emotions. As soon as his feet touched the outside of the tent, the Elven-Prince was hit with the raw beauty of elven music the melody soothing his fears while he was spellbound by the _Mereth Lindalë._ At that moment, Thranduil should have known something was very wrong, he should have noticed he was lowering his guard and his fears and wariness regarding Thorin and their strange relationship were being replaced with not only his instincts but also with the bond already formed between them.  Nevertheless, Thranduil pretended whatever he was feeling was simply not there; it was so much easier to pretend nothing was going on, that he could outrun the situation. Still, as he thought about running, the more reasonable part of him reminded him whatever promise he had made in the past was already broken for he allowed Thorin to get close to him and, whatever the Elven-Prince might do to get away from the situation would end up with his heart broken beyond repair.  

As the morning broke, the Elven-Prince returned to Thorin with a resolution of setting a safe distance between them. Despite his new resolution, the Elven-Prince could not hide his annoyance at the obvious closeness Thúlon and Thorin seemed to share. A part of Thranduil felt foolish to fall into such a childish emotion as it was jealousy, he had not lived so long and shared his affection with Haldir to let petty emotions such as this to dominate his life.  However, Thranduil also understood his own apprehension; Thorin was a prideful male, Thranduil had seen the gentleness behind Thorin’s harsh façade, he knew the dwarf would answer kindness with kindness. Where Thranduil had been harsh and cold during their first meeting, this young elfling seemed to be more approachable in ways Thranduil had been wary from the very beginning.

But, even as he thought of this and approached Thorin, whatever worries forming inside his heart were soon forgotten when Thranduil was once wrapped in the magic of elven music and the sight of Thorin’s smile.  Whatever sentiment of jealousy or even possessiveness felt foolish at the obvious affection and tenderness gleaming in the dark eyes of the dwarf.  As the day progress, Thranduil was torn in between his reason and his inner conscience. His reason told him his heat was one of the main reasons why he seemed so insistent on being close to Thorin whereas his conscience told him he had never let his biology to define who he was or who he wanted.  It was in this internal battle that Thranduil tried to define his relationship with Thorin, the Elven-Prince would notice just how attentive Thorin seemed to be, how close he usually was. Not even once did Thorin leave his side or stop talking to him. Once again, his reason reminded him that Thorin must be affected by the bond forming between them, and Thranduil realized while this was true it wasn’t the only reason why Thorin seemed to seek him out. It was just who Thorin was and had been ever since they met; the dwarf seemed to have a special ability to always know what Thranduil needed or was bothered by.

This would usually warn the elf, it would make him tremble and his heart beat faster but he would stop himself before anything could be said or revealed.

By the time Thúlon took them to the Dining Pavilion, Thranduil noticed Prince Thorin was the object of the elflings curiosity and playfulness. Thranduil could see all the elflings were quite fascinated by the grumpy dwarf who would shot stares of suspicion and awkwardness whenever they spoke to him. The Elven-Prince would sometimes feel partially amused and partially irritated by the easiness with which these young elves seemed to approach Thorin and to actually make him softened with simple acts of kindness or elven innocence. Nevertheless, and even if Thranduil sometimes felt glimpses of envy towards them, he could not help but allow his own mischievous nature take over whenever they approached Thorin with invitations of dancing and singing with them. On those occasions, Thorin would turn to him with pleadingly stares asking silently for an excused to not be taken away from Thranduil’s side. It was this stare, it was the silent begging in those big, black eyes what usually made Thranduil nudge Thorin and pretend to not understand his silent request. The Elven-Prince would smirk telling him it was not fit for a Prince to say no to a dance in the midst of celebrations; he was, after all, a Prince of Erebor and should be working on his skills as an Erebor representative in a faraway land.  Thorin would narrow his eyes at him promising in a whisper later retaliation for the treason.

Thranduil took another sip from his wine, his eyes twinkling merrily when Thorin shoot him yet another glare. The Elven-Prince softened inside, his fingertips twitching at his sides wanting nothing else but to join Thorin in the subtle touching of elfling dancing.  The open clothes Thorin wore on his shoulders were the perfect attired for a young, curious male to let his fingertips brush the hardened complexion of the dwarf’s chest, Thranduil tensed narrowing his eyes slightly but it was Thorin the one who stepped away crossing his arms until the young elf would blush stuttering an apology. Much to Thranduil’s annoyance and partial relief, Thúlon would try to calm the situation by speaking with Thorin while explaining the meaning behind the choreography.

The Elven-Prince shifted slightly knowing his inner omega had identified Thúlon as a treat, it wasn’t hard for him to know the young elf was an alpha, an elfling whose easy nature and kind personality had already captivate Thorin. Thranduil growled furrowing his brows a little, his mind forgoing the memories of the tender stares or the soft touches coming from Thorin directed sorely at him and nobody else. He felt his body stirred uncomfortably asking for the comfort of Thorin’s presence beside him, Thranduil hated needing this he let out a frustrated sigh lowering his eyes to the goblet on his hand. He hated being in heat. But he hated even more that he found a special affection with a foolish idiot who was now dancing with a bunch of elflings.

“I could warn you against wrinkles for the way you seem to be frowning, O Elven-Prince, but you probably don’t have to worry about that.” Thorin sat down beside him; he tilted his head gauging the different reactions drawing on the fair features of the elf.

As it was his habit, Thorin read with easiness the tension on Thranduil’s face; he leaned forward full of concern and tenderness, his hand cupping tenderly the wounded cheek. Thranduil couldn’t help but wonder how Thorin had come so close to him without him noticing this.

“Are you well? You seem rather tense, is it your wound?” Thorin pursed his lips, his black eyes inspecting the wound before turning to stare into the blue eyes of the elf.

Thranduil soon broke into a half-smile, shaking his head. “It is nothing.”

Thorin observed as those soft lips curled up to form a smug smile, Thranduil concealed his feelings by enjoying the attention Thorin was giving to him while ignoring the rest of the elflings that were staring at them rather disappointed. Thorin was unaware of this; his main concern was the male in front of him who had been acting strange all through the day.

“Once again you seemed to be the main attraction around here. They seemed rather disappointed that you left the show.” Thranduil finally said trying to conceal his emotions behind a lighter tone.

Thorin chuckled wiggling his brows at the Elven-Prince which made Thranduil roll his eyes at the satisfied smirk adorning those rough features.

“Can it be possible, O Elven-Prince you are jealous?” Thorin chuckled leaning back against the chair he was in when Thranduil blushed looking away with a mask of annoyance on his face; a mask that was betrayed by the ghost of a smile.

“You wish. I couldn’t care less about you paying attention to them.” Thranduil replied icily.

“The curious thing about your comment, Prince Thranduil, it’s that I was talking about you being jealous of me because they are paying attention to a dwarf instead of you.” Thorin sounded so self-satisfied by the bashful look in Thranduil’s eyes. “It is good to know, however, it was the other way around.”

“I hate you.” Thranduil finally replied placing the goblet on his lips and calming his suddenly dry throat.

“Keep telling yourself that and you may believe it at some point.” Thorin teased grabbing the golden goblet from Thranduil’s hands and taking a sip from the wine.

Thranduil clenched his jaw looking away to hide his sudden blush, “There is a cup over there, stop drinking from mine, you insufferable dwarf.”

Thorin chuckled emptying the cup, “But yours is closer and it gives me the perfect excuse to be close to you.”

Thranduil opened his mouth to reply but nothing came, he swallowed glancing at Thorin out of the corner of his eyes to see the Dwarven-Prince watching the young elves still pretty much involved in their dancing.  Thorin furrowed his brows turning to Thranduil with an inquisitive stare; he leaned back against the chair while the sound of music and laughter filled the pavilion.

“You know? I don’t remember Legolas being this enthusiastic. If anything, he is too serious to be as young as you claim him to be.”

Thranduil felt a cold shiver filled with sorrow running down his back traveling directly to his chest, his hands closed tightly around the armrest while his eyes gleamed with unshed emotions. Thorin stiffened crunching up his face feeling the sudden wave of sensations he knew were coming directly from the Elven-Prince. However, when Thorin turned to face Thranduil, he could not read much in the cold façade of the elf.

“That’s because he is a Prince.” Thranduil stated with little conviction behind his words, when the Elven-Prince turned to Thorin his face softened enough to let Thorin know he was being honest in his words. “He is the only child born in the Woodland Realm in the last fifty years. He is a miracle amongst our people, the youngest member of the Royal family and Mirkwood.”

Thorin couldn’t hide his shock at the news; he glanced at Thranduil trying to decipher the meaning behind the strange glint in those blue eyes. Thranduil straightened up giving Thorin a half-smile torn between amusement and gentleness.

“This is why he gets along with you and your company so well, in his eyes all of you are children.” Thranduil chuckled when Thorin shoot him a glare.

“I am not a child.” This could have been more convincing if the Dwarven-Prince hadn’t crossed his arms shooting a petulant stare to the elf.

“Of course not, you behave like one.” Thranduil clarified, his eyes then travel down the expose chest of the dwarf, his white cheeks turning an interesting shade of red. “But you’re not child, certainly not with the way you look.”

Thorin faced Thranduil with tension building up between them, the Dwarven-Prince was deep in confusion with this sudden wave of overwhelming emotions; but he was also aware of his own protectiveness and desire for the elf. He wished he could be sure of what was happening between them because then it would make it easier for him to lean in and kiss him the way they had done that night at Erebor’s tower.

Thranduil leaned in not sure as to what he was about to do, but whatever it was he seemed to be pretty excited by the idea of just tasting Thorin’s lips once more.

“Prince Thorin, Prince Thranduil, it took some convincing but…” Thúlon trailed off tilting his head crunching his face in puzzlement. “Is there something the matter?”

“No!” both Princes replied at the same time which made Thúlon narrow his eyes with suspicion.

Thranduil was the first one to recover covering his blushing face with the empty cup, pretending to still be drinking from it. Thorin turned his head away waving his hand while stuttering a little about feeling suddenly thirsty. Both of them seemed rather embarrassed and Thúlon was completely baffled by this. He decided to not push the matter as he had come with good news for them.

“I just wanted to tell you I got everything set for the both of you to participate in a special event.” Thúlon couldn’t hide his excitement, his lips curled in a proud smile.

Thranduil and Thorin both agreed rather fast, each one of them standing as far away from the other as they could. If Thúlon noticed this he didn’t mention it, instead he started telling them about the different events happening in the Elven Kingdom. They left the pavilion under the stares of disappointment of some young elves, soon another melody reached their ears and both Princes found themselves transported into a magic atmosphere while Thúlon guided them through the nomadic city.

The young elf took them down another path, the alley led to the back of the compound to a flatland, there was sand but the terrain under it was firm enough to allow for training and other physical activities. Thorin watched with growing curiosity several elves holding on their hands wooden sticks that reached their hips, they were wearing brown pants without shirts on, their bronzed chest gleaming under the burning sun. These elves were preparing themselves from something under the sound of bass drums and double reed wind instruments. Many of the presents turned to the newcomers, some of them shooting Thorin interested stares while others were completely focused on Thranduil.

All of them, however, bowed at once when Thúlon set his feet on the training ground. Thúlon nodded to Thranduil and Thorin to follow him to a place where a few chairs had been positioned along with two different wooden sticks.

“What are we doing here?” Thorin finally asked his eyes eying warily the sticks then back at Thúlon who still held a proud grin in place.

Thranduil approached the chair grabbing the stick with his right hand; he wasn’t a stranger to the art of fighting with staffs, as a Prince he was taught most of the fighting styles in Middle-Earth. However, this was the first time he found himself amongst such a strange land holding a fighting staff made of an unknown wood.

“This is the training grounds of the warriors of Dorwinion.” Thúlon explained excitedly. “Only the best come here to the rituals involving fighting and protecting our people and our land. During the _Mereth Lindalë_ the warriors engage in a ritual we like to call Tahtib.”

Thorin raised his brows just as confused as Thranduil, the Elven-Prince approached Thúlon, “I’m not familiar with this word, what does it mean?”

“It’s not elvish, Prince Thranduil, it is the tongue spoken by the men living deep into the desert.” Thúlon continued his explanation. “The legend said they taught us this fighting style when the world was dark and full of peril.”

Thranduil listened attentively quite aware of every single elf in the ground paying attention to them. Thúlon spoke with eagerness, his emotions hardly hidden as he shared a bit of history and part of the costumes of his people to these two entrancing strangers.

“The men of the desert could not go to the fight with us so, instead of sending armies, they taught us this fighting style.” Thúlon asked for a staff and soon he was given one, the young elf twirled it around his fingers with expertise. “This was a long range weapon, much like the bow and the arrow, but it also allowed us to get close enough for a final strike. Thus, we honoured them in this festival by performing some of the techniques under the enchantment of music.”

Thúlon pointed with his head to the arena, Thorin turned around but the first thing he noticed was the music. The bass drum was being slapped by skilled hands thumping the base of the drum with growing intensity. The wind instrument soon followed, the sound remained Thorin of an eagle hunting for its prey, the drums made him think of the footsteps of warriors joining a long fight. Thorin felt his heart beat faster and faster, the sound of elven voices filled his ears, his eyes were soon seeking out the strong warriors moving to the centre of the training grounds, the sticks moving alongside their torso following strange figures without being separated from the elven skin. They moved synchronized, forming different lines with their feet hitting the ground lifting sand around them, the drums kept their insistent tapping, the wind instruments turned into a soft tune intertwining the melody with that of the drums. Thúlon had said this was not an Elven fighting style and yet, the elves had adapted it to their bodies, moving gracefully while controlling the staff on their arms as if it was just another limb.

Thúlon glanced at Thorin and Thranduil crossing his arms proudly when he realized Thorin was completely baffled by the show and Thranduil was just giving in the music, letting his worries and fears go as he entered even more into the magic of the music and his own nature.

The drums stopped all of a sudden, the warriors organized themselves in a semi-circle while placing their staffs in front of their bodies, they lifted them slightly only to drop them back on the ground. They started hitting the ground, once, twice, thrice and soon it was the drums again; the oldest member of the warriors stood forward lifting his staff above his head twirling it around in the fingers of his right hand. Thorin was quite shocked when the youngest in the semi-circle stepped forward grabbing his own staff by one of the ends as if he was grabbing a sword. The fight caught the Dwarven-Prince by surprised, the young elf dropped his arms with a great force but the seasoned warrior stopped the strike with ease.  The drums started another tune; soon the sound of the flutes and the oboes filled the air with both elves engaging themselves in a fight.

Everything was orchestrated, Thorin could not help but admired the ability with which the elves fought one another, changing from one opponent to another swiftly and fluidly never once breaking the pace of their dance. It was like watching sand slipping through your fingers, or the wind messing with your hair, or the water moving past the rocks. It all ended too soon for Thorin’s liking, the seasoned warrior screamed something and soon the others followed him placing their staffs standing right beside them.

Thorin was speechless, Thranduil was restless.

The Elven-Prince had seen the dance as another show of dominance and defiance, the only moment in which his people could really give in their basic instincts. Thranduil had come from a world in which allowing his primal desires was not only forbidden but looked down on, it was even more scandalous for a Prince to allow himself such a poor spectacle of desire and need. He was never allowed to participate so openly in the important dances around his people; it wasn’t as if he hadn’t joined in the festivities, because he had. He had felt the joys of dancing and singing and drinking amongst his peers and other high ranking elves; however, this kind of performance would have been an open disregard of their rules.

These elves certainly were nothing like their kin from the west.

Still, something inside Thranduil stirred with anxiety, his hand twitched begging to make contact with the Dwarven-Prince standing beside him. Thranduil knew he was treading on thin ice, he knew something inside him was different the moment he woke next to Thorin. And he could blame his heat all he wanted but, deep inside him, he knew it was more than that. It was something deeper and it was a matter of time before one of them finally break and decided to give in.

Thúlon then arched his brow gesturing to his hands at both Princes who were still dumbfounded after the spectacle.

“Now, it is your turn.” He said with a tone of finality.

Thranduil opened his eyes shaking his head, “Oh, no, I do not think…”

“What? Are you afraid? I thought it was you the one who said we should have a rematch of our training session.” Thorin certainly seemed quite enamoured with what he just saw, his eyes were gleaming excitedly, his muscles twitching to join in.  For the Dwarven-Prince this was not an elven dance, it had too much hidden intend and will of fight to be anything but a creation of the sand itself. He was remained of home, of the deepest of the mountain and the working hammers in the mines and the heat of battle. Something very dwarvish-like awoke in him and now all Thorin wanted to do was to participate in this.

Thorin turned to Thranduil quirking a brow, his eyes holding a childish gleam Thranduil had come to hate because it usually made him give in Thorin’s requests.

“O, Elven-Prince, this time around our combat will be before your kin. This is just fighting with music, let’s try it. Unless you’re afraid I defeat you again.”

Thranduil rolled his eyes crossing his arms warily, “This is not like training. This is different. I don’t think it is a good idea.”

Thorin snorted, “Why? You’re afraid I end up being better than you in front of your kin?”

Thranduil felt his eyebrow twitched, he knew what Thorin was trying to do and he was not going to give in. He was not going to fall for such a childish game, Thúlon observed the scene rather amused.

“I’m not afraid of you, _dwarf_.”

“Oh, so we’re back to calling me _dwarf_ then _, elf?_ ” Thorin replied mockingly. “Very well, I won’t make you do something you’re afraid of doing…”

“I’m not afraid.” Thranduil retorted through gritted teeth, Thorin rolled his eyes lifting a hand in a sign of peace.

“Fine, I won’t make you do something you’re unwilling to do, I bet Thúlon or someone else can pair with me.”

“I would be very honoured if you let me share this with you, _Astalder.”_ Thúlon perked up, his face lighting up at the prospect.

Thranduil clenched his jaw looking at the arena then back at Thorin; he knew it was ridiculous, being jealous over a youngling was not only unfit for someone Thranduil’s age but it was also unfit for someone in his position. And still, here he was lifting his chin rather coldly, glancing around before letting a heavy sigh out of his lips.

“Last time you got to decide the price.” Thranduil spoke suddenly startling Thorin who was already grabbing his staff eyeing the weapon with uncertainty. “This time around, I get to decide the price for the winner or the loser.”

Thorin narrowed his eyes at the elf; he glanced at Thúlon for a brief moment before straightened himself up.

“You are going to try it out?” Thorin asked, Thranduil nodded curtly. “Really? What made you change your mind?”

“I just want to see you bite the sand and erase that infuriating smirk you’re wearing.” Thranduil replied smiling a little, his eyes softening to show Thorin he was merely jesting.

Thorin chuckled shaking his head, “I’m dying to see you eat your own words and then thinking of a fitting prize for me.”

“In your dreams, Dwarf.”

“You really don’t want to know what happens in them, elf.”

Thranduil faltered slightly the staff falling to the ground only to be picked up by a smirking Thorin.  Both Princes stared at one another as they had done so many times yet, Thranduil realized there was something different.  With a bow of his head, Thranduil grabbed the staff leaning in so he was close to Thorin, he knew he was falling for a childish game but with Thorin it was so easy to just give in.  If his father was there, he would be rather disappointed at his lack of control, how he was giving into his own emotions the way he did all those years ago.

“You better watch yourself, Prince Thorin, I won’t lose this time around.” Thranduil said in a threatening whisper, his smug smile was accompanied by a light brush of his fingertips against Thorin’s knuckles.

The Dwarven-Prince snort stepping away, “I say the same to you, Prince Thranduil, because I’m not doing a fancy dancing-fighting show for the sake of the prize but…”

In here, Thorin trailed off furrowing his brows a little. Thranduil swallowed straightening up while looking at Thúlon who was now waiting for them. Thranduil was about to walk towards the waiting elves but Thorin stopped him; his face was a mask of pure seriousness.

“I was given the chance to spend some time alone with you and I know I’m sounding selfish while my cousin may be in danger but…” Thorin shook his head. “I’m not good at this; let’s just join your kin.”

Thranduil opened his mouth to make Thorin speak, to demand answers from the dwarf but he stopped himself before he could formulate his request. He nodded briefly and joined Thúlon and the elf captain of the warriors of Dorwinion.

Everyone got ready, the oldest amongst the warriors scowled lightly with his eyes narrowing slightly while staring at Thranduil. The Elven-Prince quirked a brow lifting his chin while his eyes gleamed dangerously, his hand was spinning the staff while he stretched the muscles of his legs and back. Thorin seemed pretty excited by the idea of being part of this event; Thranduil would feel the weight of the stares and the overriding scent of the alphas forming the group of warriors. If it had been at another time and in other circumstances, Thranduil would have been affected in one way or another by this; however, having Thorin so close to him while identifying the dwarf as his _something_ was enough for Thranduil to remain impassive, almost cold around these elves. The training grounds were starting to get crowded; elves approached it with curiosity when they learnt the foreigners were to be part of the Tahtib ritual. Thranduil took a deep breath positioning himself where Thúlon indicated, half hearing and half ignoring the young elf who was explaining the basics of the dance; Thorin for his part was staring with scepticism and exasperation at the oldest elf who was trying to give the simplest instructions to the dwarf.

The rules were simple: the dance would start slow, merely a well-choreographed set of steps and fighting stances to get into a different state of consciousness in which all the warriors could think of was the fight.  As the music would grow in intensity so would the different movements and the warriors would start taking turns to face one another until only two remained, this last two would continue in a series of well-orchestrated movements imitating a sword-fight amongst two different opponents.  The winner would be the one taking the staff off of the hand of the other without breaking away from the dancing ritual.

Thranduil looked ahead of him, his eyes finding Thorin’s easily.

Both of them stared at one another, Thorin smirked wriggling his eyebrows. Thranduil smirked back cocking a daring brow while tilting his head. Even if he was looking rather smug and calm, Thranduil was nervous on the inside; he could feel his heart beating faster while his body was tingling all over in anticipation. He took a deep breath taking control over himself while tightening his hold on the staff.

The ritual started when Thranduil less expected it.

It started with a soft tapping on top of the drumhead; Thranduil glanced in front of him to see the seasoned elf started a tapping of his own with the staff. Thranduil was a fast learner, he soon was tapping the sand with his own weapon once, twice, thrice; the tapping continued in a constant rhythm. The Elven-Prince shifted his stare to see Thorin scowling rather exasperate at the unchanging nature of the dance.  The Elven-Prince couldn’t help but smile a little at this; he tried to relax his expression when his blue eyes found a heated glare from the captain of the warriors. Apparently they were not supposed to smile; Thranduil pursed his lips trying to glare back while catching on the sudden change of tune.  It was a subtle change, the tapping transformed periodically into a slap making the rhythm turn into an insistent call.

This was the cue for the elves to speed up, Thorin almost lost his staff and this time Thranduil hid his smile. Thúlon cleared his throat stepping forward grabbing his staff while swirling it to the right with his left hand. Thranduil soon followed and everyone was forming a semi-circle again with the staffs facing the centre of said circle. Thranduil made sure to never lose Thorin and Thorin was doing the same, their eyes met with the music filling the air. Soon the flutes and the wind instruments joined the drums; they intertwined with insistence and their strong melodies started dictating how they moved.  For Thranduil it was easier, the different dancing motions were made for elven  limbs that were easy to turn and manipulate, Thorin was having more troubles, his different advances were made rather roughly lacking the grace of the elves but giving it a more lethal form.

The elves screamed startling Thorin and Thranduil, the oldest elf advanced only to be faced, once again, by the youngest member of the circle. Soon they started facing one another, striking and deflecting; the fighters obey the different sounds of the drums, the loud thud of wood against wood resounded alongside the sound of beating drums. Thúlon nudged Thranduil with a tentative smile and the Elven-Prince hesitated before advancing. He faced another elf, dark skin, deep grey eyes with auburn hair; he was looking rather serious, his hands played with the staff as if he had nothing but air between his fingers. Thranduil opened his eyes when the first strike came to him unannounced, this made him broke his concentration for a moment letting him sense Thorin’s sudden rage.  Scowling deeply, Thranduil took control over his emotions advancing, his hands grabbed the staff giving an empty fade, turning slightly to strike from the left, then from the right, the sound of the weapons crashing against one another deafening his other senses.

There were screams, but Thorin didn’t care if those were part of this dance or not, he only cared for Thranduil who seemed to be facing a vicious elf. The Dwarven-Prince frowned growling and tensing at the scene, a sudden wave of protectiveness came crashing inside his chest. He breathed in and out, trying to speak reason to himself while he started following the other elves in the dance. He didn’t want to do anything that might embarrass Thranduil and yet, he marked the face of the elf in his mind to teach him a lesson when the time came. However, just as Thorin was thinking this, Thranduil made some strange pivot, taking a step backwards moving his front feet into the rear position while stretching his hand until the point of his staff slapped the fingers of his opponent. The elf dropped the staff and soon the drums filled the arena with their tapping, this time a different pattern was played and the intensity of the danced rose up. The elf’s eyes were burning but if they were doing so with rage or admiration, Thranduil could not tell. Soon his turn came to stand behind and observe as Thorin faced an elf and just like the dwarf, Thranduil couldn’t help but feel protective of him. It was unnecessary of course, while Thorin could not keep up with the most seasoned warrior, he never backed down not even when he dropped his weapon.  Thranduil didn’t hide his smirk when Thorin lifted his chin ready to fight off the elf until he was asked by Thúlon to return to his post with his weapon. It was a brief moment in which the music wasn’t interrupted even if the dancing was.

For Thorin and Thranduil it seemed like hours since they started participating in this strange ritual; but in reality it hadn’t been more than fifteen minutes when they came to be face to face.

By the time it was their turn to face one another Thorin was the only one showing physical signs of exhaustion. Thranduil could tell his body was itching with discomfort and tiredness, but years and even centuries of being in a battlefield had taught him how to control his body and distribute the energy to keep fighting.  Both Princes stared at one another much like they did on the training grounds in Erebor; Thranduil remembered at that time, he was trying to get out his frustrations during his heat while Thorin was just trying to get closer to him. Now they were facing one another in different circumstances, and a lot of things had happened that brought them closer with things left unsaid. Thranduil could tell they were entering a point of no return in which, either Thranduil would do or say something unexpected or Thorin would run out of patience and break the tension between them. It was just a matter of time and Thranduil felt his body shiver with anticipation.

The music resounded insistent around them, Thranduil felt his heart beat at the rhythm of the drums. The Dwarven-Prince smirked working the fighting staff on his hands like he would his axe, he fell at ease facing the Elven-Prince in front of him. Thranduil for his part lowered the defences in his mind, if he was going to fight with Thorin he wanted to know what the Dwarven-Prince was feeling.  A part of him was just seeking out to be close to the dwarf, as close as he needed to be. However, Thranduil didn’t know if this actually worked effectively for, as soon as he tried to tap into his connection with Thorin, the Dwarven-Prince attacked.

Of course, it wasn’t an attack per se.

Thorin had already learned the subtle art of elven dancing, if a little rougher and awkwardly. He followed the steps he had learned while manipulating his weapon with ease, the music filled the air inviting both Princes to fight. The warm breeze of the falling afternoon touched their skin, the sun was already hiding away while the blue of the sky changed into a mixture of yellow and red and orange;  a song broke around them, with lyrics of deep and strong notes. And, as all of this happened around them, Thorin and Thranduil engaged in a dance of swords not giving in but looking for an excused to prolong their encounter.

It didn’t take long for Thranduil to realize he was completely connected with Thorin, they moved in synch under the afternoon light with only the music and themselves in their minds. Nothing and no one seemed to penetrate the private moment they were sharing; but Thranduil could see how easily was for Thorin to anticipate Thranduil, if he went to the left Thorin  would move to the right, if he moved forward Thorin would step back. It was poetry in motion, with Thorin and Thranduil fighting as equals without seeking to better one another, they were simply enjoying themselves smirking to one another.

But just as time passed, so did the song.

Soon, Thorin and Thranduil were faced with growing intensity of the drums and the wind instruments. A song of war broke amongst the elves and the lyrics along with the resounding of the drums forced upon them a need to win; while both Princes were in their own world; it was obvious for everyone else they were getting in the midst of a private moment. Many of the warrior elves shifted uncomfortably, scowling lightly while others were quite shocked at the closeness these two individuals seemed to share. Thúlon observed from afar, softening slightly while smiling satisfied at his work. He wasn’t sure at first this kind of performance would help in any way, but he was glad his doubts were unfounded for Thorin and Thranduil seemed to be breaking away their fears and just getting closer and closer. The young Elven-Prince observed as Thorin and Thranduil built up the tension amongst them with simple movements of combat, at first they were looking as if they were equals but now, they were trying to win. Thranduil smiled a little his hand twirling around, his feet sliding above the sand; Thorin returned the smile, his hand shifting slightly, his feet advancing with confidence. The sound of their staffs tapping against one another rose above the sound of the drums,  their dancing was soon forgotten for a more pragmatic approach and then…

…the drums sounded for one last time and everything ended all too soon.

Thorin stood speechless with his hand still stretched and his weapon on the ground, Thranduil stood in front of him breathing fast, his eyes gleaming strangely while his own weapon was pointed directly to the dwarf’s heart.

The silence around them was deafening.

No one moved.

Thorin breathed in and out, agitated by the exercise and the sudden urge of wanting to touch Thranduil. He lifted his dark eyes to see Thranduil before him, with his blond hair wild and unkempt falling on his face, his clothing tainted by the sand and his uncovered chest gleaning with a thin layer of sweat and sand. The Elven-Prince was looking _wild_ and so entrancing at the moment, Thorin felt ashamed to even feel the slightly traces of arousal in him.  His mind could not help but tell him his father would probably feel the same, and this only made Thorin more disgusted with himself when he identified those possessive and almost maddening emotions inside him. Thorin was the first one to look away; he straightened up picking up the fighting staff while clearing his mind of any inconvenient thought. He felt filthy with how primal he just reacted to a simple dance and fighting session, he was remained of his father and Thorin’s blood ran cold. If there was anything he didn’t want for himself was to be like his father in any way, much less when watching or desiring Thranduil. It was such a confusing reaction; it gripped his heart with a strange emotion that scared him. Finally, Thorin faced Thranduil and he was surprised to see Thranduil watching him with a tiny, timid smile.

“You won.” Thorin finally said his lips drawing a half-smile; he lifted an eyebrow to Thranduil who lowered his arm taking a step back.

“I did.” Thranduil finally said looking away for a moment.

“Now you get to choose.” Thorin commented lightly clenching his fists at his sides, he dared to look back at Thranduil and the Elven-Prince was staring at him with confusion and longing.

Thranduil nodded briefly, but before he could answer Thúlon approached them with a huge grin adorning his features. Soon the conversation broke the silent bubble both Princes seemed to be in, Thranduil kept his eyes on Thorin, for the very first time ever he could read the tension and the fear in those black eyes. The Elven-Prince could even sense something was bothering Thorin greatly and he had to wonder what happened to break the wonderful spell they seemed to be in moments ago.

“My congratulations to the both of you, my Lords.” Thúlon was certainly happy, his eyes moved from one prince to the other. “My people would talk about this for years to come.”

“I believe it is us who need to thank you, Prince Thúlon.” Thranduil stated with a brief bow of his head. “This has been quite the experience for us.”

“It has.” Thorin agreed grumbling slightly.

Thúlon hesitated for a moment, he sought Thranduil for some kind of direction at the sudden change in humour from the dwarf but Thranduil was just as lost as the young elf. Thorin almost recoiled at the sudden touch of a warm hand on top of his shoulder; he looked out of the corner of his eyes to see Thranduil standing beside him with his face crunched up in concern.

“I believe the feast would begin soon enough, perhaps you would like a bath and some clean clothes?” Thúlon insinuated Thorin seemed to nod curtly stepping forward and walking in the general direction where he thought their tent was located.

“I believe everything would be ready for the both of you back at your tent.” Thúlon continued, Thranduil turned to him with his face still marked by the concern he felt for Thorin.

“Thank you, Prince Thúlon.”

“Do you need me to accompany you or would you like to go after Prince Thorin on your own?” Thúlon stood rather uncomfortably when the heavy stare of Thranduil fell upon him. There was something rather intimidating in the stare of the other elf, age was obvious behind those blue irises, and even if Prince Thranduil status as an omega was obvious to him, Thúlon didn’t feel like the more dominant male at the moment.

“You can lead the way, Prince Thúlon. I believe Prince Thorin would appreciate a moment for himself.”

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Everyone seemed to be getting ready for the main event.

The great feast of _Mereth Lindalë_ would take place in the main square where food and drinks would be offered to the assistants. Thúlon explained to Thranduil how everything evolved around the music and the dancing, he told Thranduil this last event was the most important of them all reminding to the Elven-Prince of the significance of dancing for the elves. It had been the first thing they learnt when waking up in Arda, and it had defined them as a culture and a race all through their millennia in Middle-Earth. They had parted with Thúlon leaving Thranduil on the tent where a cool bath and clean clothing was waiting with the promise of coming later into the afternoon for both Princes.

Thranduil felt refresh by the cold water waiting for him, his mind ease in the calmness that came with a well-deserved bath. He opened his eyes to stare at the light colouring of the tent above his head, he could heard the melodic sound of elven laughter and singing, the insistent harmony behind the instruments being played and the muffled chatter coming from everywhere.  The Elven-Prince couldn’t help but wonder how these people could enjoy of such peaceful times when the western world seemed to be growing in darkness and peril. It was at this moment, Thranduil realized he had never felt so calm or so detached from the real world in a long, long time. His only worry at the moment seemed to be his relationship with the Dwarven-Prince who was probably sulking alone in their tent. Thranduil left the comfort of his bath, the drops of water sliding down his skin while he stared at his hands and the clothing prepared for him; the muscles in his body flexed easily tingling in comfort after the exercised of the afternoon. Whatever tension he felt coming from his heat and the closeness of Thorin was soon soothed by the physical activity and, while Thranduil was grateful for this, he was also hoping to find more peacefulness by being beside the Dwarven-Prince.

Whatever he had thought early in the morning, or whatever fears he had harboured were put aside and Thranduil was still wondering if this was due to the magic of _Mereth Lindalë_ or the magic of Thorin being who he was. Thranduil put on him the long, sleeveless jacket of matching green and gold with his leggings and boots, he admired his form in the mirror, his hair falling still wet on his face; the scar on his left cheek was itching, bleeding slightly. He turned around and allowed a quick sweep of his appearance before he went to join Thorin at their tent. Thranduil’s eyes delayed on the scar adorning his abdomen, his fingertips caressed the mark with fondness as he was remained of Legolas, the son he left behind and that was probably worried sick about him. The Elven-Prince went serious remembering these moments of peace were to be over by the next day when they would have to go after Dáin before facing the traitorous clan in Erebor. He only hoped for the sake of Erebor that Legolas was doing fine or else, there won’t be nothing in Middle- Earth to stop Thranduil to make them pay.

Thranduil found Thorin sitting down in the small living room of their tent, his dark eyes were observing with utter care the form of the wooden table in front of him. The Elven-Prince approached Thorin, but the Dwarven-Prince didn’t lift his stare to acknowledge Thranduil. Silence followed Thranduil’s arrival, the Elven-Prince felt tempted to speak but instead he went directly to the bedside table were some of the healing stuff were still resting. He grabbed clean cloths and the strange unguent Thorin had applied the day before, he took them all in his arms turning around only to be faced with the inquiring stare of the dwarf.

“Your wound is bleeding.” Thorin stated straightening himself up, he went to stand but Thranduil got to him first sitting beside the dwarf while placing everything on the table.

“It is. Apparently today’s exercise opened the wound.” Thranduil explained turning to see Thorin furrowing his brows. The Dwarven-Prince locked his eyes with Thranduil’s his hand lifting slightly only to falter at the last minute and go back to the dwarf’s lap.

Thranduil offered a tentative smile inclining his head, “I was hoping you could treat my wound the way you did yesterday. For a dwarf, you seem to have a healing hand.”

Thorin nodded curtly but he didn’t return the smile, just like the day before he positioned himself on the table his hands were clean so all he had to do was grab one of the sterile cloths to clean the wound. Even after working on the forges, of fighting in numerous battles, of handling wild beasts, Thorin’s touch was gentle, almost shy when he attended to the Elven-Prince. Their closeness was making him nervous; his eyes would drift from the wound to the blue irises of Thranduil and then back to the wound. Thranduil didn’t need to use any sort of connection or face reading to know something was bothering Thorin.

“The clothes you were given, they suit you.” Thranduil commented lightly trying to make conversation. “I think royal blue strikes marvellously with your skin and your eyes.”

Thorin felt his lips curled up, he cocked a brow while centring his attention on the bleeding wound.

“Are you a connoisseur of Dwarven style now, Prince Thranduil?” Thorin tainted his comment with amusement, enjoying the soft chuckle coming from the Elven-Prince.

“I am style itself, Prince Thorin. You will never see me wearing nothing that doesn’t agree with my complexion or my status.” Thranduil held the stare Thorin gave him; he trembled when those calloused fingers brushed against the soft skin of his chin.

“I found your words to be truthful, I do not believe I have seen you dishevel in any way or form. Until today while we were dancing.” There was something in Thorin’s tone that brought warning signs to the elf’s mind.

Thorin turned around picking some of the unguent on his fingertips while getting another cloth with his free hand. Thranduil observed the tension in those shoulders, the reproachful stare in those black eyes.

“What is bothering you so, Thorin?” Thranduil asked in a mere whisper, the Dwarven-Prince didn’t face Thranduil instead he focused on his task of cleaning the wound and tending to it with care.

For a moment there was only silence, then Thorin sighed feeling the heavy stare of the elf on him. Thranduil hissed when the wound itched at the contact with the unguent, Thorin jerked his hand away worrying over the elf.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, you did not.” Thranduil looked over at Thorin reassuringly; Thorin took a deep breath and went to apply some more of the balm on the burnt skin. "Thorin…”

Thranduil started but he soon didn’t know how to continue, he sought for the right words finding only frustration at his inability to communicate with the dwarf. He could feel the anxiety coming from Thorin, it was evident in the way he was even tending to the wounds or just evading his stare. The Elven-Prince lifted his hand to wrap it around the dwarf’s wrist; this made Thorin stop his task to face with wonderment to the elf.

“I thought you were happy, almost enthusiastic for the Tahtib.” Thranduil commented softly. “Then you change completely, and now you refuse to look me in the eye or to even speak to me with the same _tone_ you always talk to me with.”

Thranduil couldn’t tell him he had noticed the tenderness, even the affection whenever Thorin addressed him and only him. Nevertheless, Thorin knew what he was talking about; he knew what Thranduil was referring to. For a moment, Thorin played with the idea of lying, of perhaps misguiding the Elven-Prince and only feed him with half-truths. But, Thorin didn’t lie, it wasn’t in his nature to do so when his heart was compromise, he could not lie to his friends and he certainly could not lie to the elf in front of him.

“Today, while I saw you…I feel like my father.” Thorin knew he was revealing more than he should with this comment; he looked away as to not see the understanding and disgust in the blue eyes of the elf. If Thorin had bothered to see Thranduil, he would have seen tenderness behind those blue eyes, understanding of what Thorin was experiencing. There was not disgust, but real affection.  The fact Thorin felt repulse at the idea of feeling such strong emotions of possessiveness , or even the glimpse of fear of falling into madness the way Thráin was doing told Thranduil Thorin was not like his father.

“You’re not your father, Thorin.” Thranduil said this with conviction, his hand tightening lightly around the dwarf’s wrist.

“Am I not?” The dwarf replied bitterly, this time he did face Thranduil finding himself the subject of warn blue eyes. Thranduil offered a tentative smile but the Dwarven-Prince looked away, his hands and eyes occupying themselves with the bandages as he spoke again.

“You don’t understand, Thranduil.” Thorin said and his voice was bitter and filled with silent reproach. “I couldn’t help but feel this primal desire for you; I have never wanted anything more than to _possess_ you. And then, all I could think was what father wanted to do to you, and what he did…what he did in the past.”

Thranduil perked up at this last bit, he felt the question at the tip of his tongue but something in the face of the dwarf stopped him. Whatever Thorin meant by his comment, it was something affecting him greatly. Thranduil waited to see if Thorin would elaborate, but when the Dwarven-Prince didn’t the Elven-Prince felt an urge to reassure Thorin he was nothing like Thráin. Thorin tensed when he felt smooth fingertips caressing his beard, sneaking around to lift his chin and made him stared directly into Thranduil’s eyes. Thorin opened his eyes slightly locking them with Thranduil’s, the Elven-Prince allowed his fingertips a more adventurous path traveling up the beard to the lips he so desired to experience again.

“There is no shame in feeling this kind of desire, Thorin.” Thranduil spoke softly, his heart hammering inside his ribcage. “It doesn’t turn you into Thráin, the fact you stop yourself in such a harsh manner speaks of who you really are.  It tells me you are different.”

Thorin furrowed his brows, for the very first time realizing he was really close to Thranduil, if he were to lean in their lips would meet once again. The Dwarven-Prince didn’t do it, though, this moment was a moment of honesty, and the dwarf’s heart fluttered grateful by the words of the elf.

“I’ve never…” Thorin trailed off leaning back a little, Thranduil hesitated, his fingertips brushing curiously the skin and beard of the dwarf.

Thorin snorted shaking his head while focusing his attention back on the wound on Thranduil’s cheek. If any of them noticed the sudden change in their conversation, or how close they were, or the building tension between them, they didn’t say it. It was as if the day had been prepared for them to finally hold the honest talk they owed one another. Both of them could feel their hearts beating hard, their breathing fastening as they shared such an intimated moment. The Elven-Prince winced lightly when Thorin put the unguent on the burn with care, his dark eyes admiring the burn while refusing to move away from the closeness he was sharing with the elf.

Finally, Thorin dropped his eyes crunching up his face before speaking, “I can’t help but keep wondering what is going on between you and me.”

Thranduil gasped in surprised his blue eyes seeking Thorin’s dark ones; the Dwarven-Prince was a mask of pure seriousness with only a hint of wonderment in the dwarf’s eyes. Thranduil felt his own defences lifting up at the meaning of such a question and the implications of the answers, he contemplated his options but unable to be completely truthful just yet. He needed time and he knew time was the only thing he didn’t have.

“Whatever you mean by this?” Thranduil finally said dropping his own eyes, everything around them had become tense.

Thorin scowled his eyes gleaming dangerously at the elf, “Do no play games with me, Thranduil. You know what I am talking about.”

Thranduil knew this, of course. But for him was so much easier to play nonchalantly, to pretend he wasn’t completely sure what the dwarf was talking about. Thorin scoffed placing the bandage on the wound, his fingertips working delicately around the edges to make sure it wouldn’t come off later on. Silence stretched between them and Thorin wouldn’t move whereas Thranduil wouldn’t speak.  The Elven-Prince was still wondering how they got to this point; moments ago they had been dancing, enjoying themselves while forgetting the outside world. Now, now they were sitting close to one another with revelations and feelings hanging around them building up the tension in their minds and hearts. Thranduil could blame his heat for the sudden vulnerability he was showing, for his emotional attitude but the truth was this conversation had been held for far too long and now there was nothing in between them to prevent it for happening.

Thorin was right, something was happening between them and fear was the only thing keeping them away from one another. Fear of admitting some promises were made to be broken.

“I do not know what is going on, Thorin. I’ve been around Middle-Earth for more than two millennia and…” Thranduil trailed off his brows furrowing lightly giving him an expression of bafflement. “And I have never been shaken by someone being close to me, fighting me at every turn, kissing me with inexperienced enthusiasm. So, my answer to you, Prince Thorin is that I find myself just as confused as you are.”

Thorin was taken aback, his expression soon changed to one of indignation while his cheeks took on an interesting shade of red.

“Please, O Elven-Prince, allowed me to correct my mistake.” Thorin said to a very confused Thranduil.

“Mistake? What are you talking about?” Thranduil furrowed his brows at lost as to what the Dwarven-Prince was referring to.

“About my kissing experience.” Thorin commented taking a deep breath before leaning in.

Thranduil didn’t have time to react for he soon found himself being thoroughly kissed by Thorin. The Dwarven-Prince cupped his right cheek with tenderness, his lips moulded against his asking for permission to move, to deepen the kiss. It took Thranduil a whole second to close his eyes and give in. Their lips met again, this time around there was no hurry, there was no provocation. It was a kiss born out of tenderness; it was a way to tell themselves and to reassure themselves of their feelings for one another. There was innocence behind the touch of Thorin’s lips, and there was unconditional surrender in the lips of the Elven-Prince. Whatever they could not say with words, they were saying it with their lips. Thorin sought to consume Thranduil, while the Elven-Prince smiled in the guidance of the kiss, he allowed Thorin free reign whenever he demanded it but he taught the dwarf how to make him moan and ask for more. It soon became a game for them, Thorin would press and Thranduil would teach, their minds clear off of any doubts or fears and they found themselves forgetting how fast or how slow they were going.

They parted when it was obvious Thorin need to breathe, Thranduil had his eyes close fearing he would say too much if he opened them.  But Thorin had his eyes wide open, leaning forward to press his forehead against Thranduil’s one not wanting to let go of the warm he was feeling.

“You’re not your father, Thorin.” Thranduil finally whispered fluttering his eyes open to stare into those black orbs. “Your father would have never been capable of making me his the way you just did.”

Thorin smiled softly nodding briefly, he was about to lean in for another kiss but they were suddenly interrupted by a very enthusiastic Thúlon.  This sudden interruption made Thranduil lose his balance, and Thorin hit the back of the table to fall again on top of it. Thúlon quirked a brow suspecting he had arrived at a bad time, his eyes went from the fallen form of Thranduil on the floor to the one of the Dwarven-Prince at the table. The young elf noticed with puzzlement the red colouring on the Princes’ cheeks, he noticed the bashful bearing in their postures or the way they would focus their stares on him.

“I apologized, my Lords. Did I interrupt something?”

“No, nothing, we were just…Prince Thorin was just assisting me with my wounds.” Thranduil waved his hand frowning while trying to stand up again.

“Yes, exactly…nothing was interrupted.” Thorin chimed in trying to be helpful, Thranduil rolled his eyes while standing up and trying to look as dignified as possible.

Thúlon dedicated them one last doubtful stare, his eyes soon went to Thorin and they gleamed with full appreciation.

“ _Astalder_ you look rather astonishing in those clothes.”  The young elf commented, Thorin glanced down at himself furrowing his brows when he watched the black leggings matching the boots covering his feet,  his chest was left naked much like everyone around seemed to use their clothing with only a vest, a jacket or a shirt on their torsos. For Thorin, someone had chosen a royal blue shirt that complemented his broad shoulders and thick arms. Thorin had combed his hair with silver threats holding two of his most important braids.

“I feel ridiculous, if I’m to be honest. I’m not used to having my chest so expose.” Thorin replied finding himself the object of a pair of elven eyes.

“I believe, _Astalder,_ and I know Prince Thranduil would agree with me, that you look stunning tonight.” Thúlon said smiling a little. “The royal blue complements your bearing.”

“That’s what I told him.” Thranduil intervened placing his arms around the dwarf’s shoulders; Thranduil could still feel the beating of his heart, the tingling on his lips, and the memory of the kiss fresh in his mind.

Thorin relaxed his body when he felt the proximity of the Elven-Prince, he enjoyed the attention and he couldn’t help the goofy smile on his face when the thought of the kiss came to mind. The strange gesture and the sudden closeness between the Princes didn’t go unnoticed to the watchful eyes of Thúlon, a part of the young elf wondered just how complicate the relationship between them really was while another part decided the only thing they needed was a push in the right direction.

“Very well.  Then my Lords, if you are ready allowed me to escort you to the plaza where the feast is going to take place.” Thúlon shot them one last glance he turned around and exited the tent.

*****

Night had already fallen.

The darkened sky was filled with stars and the moon was shining a bright silver light above the compound. Everyone was making their way to the main square, in the midst of laughter and conversation, the Kingdom of Dorwinion was buzzing with excitement. Wherever Thranduil turned to he saw the elves engaging themselves in improvise songs, the Elven-Prince was still surprised at how alike and how different the elves of the Woodland Realm were from the elves of the desert. How many years and centuries separated them making them a different world while sharing the same common traits? Thranduil turned his head ahead of him feeling the warm coming from Thorin’s closeness; while they were in the tent and the kiss came to be, the Elven-Prince had been incapable of producing a coherent thought. He was finally taking what he so desired thus, his mind was occupied with the glimpse of happiness he was feeling. Thranduil didn’t pretend to know what Thorin was thinking, he didn’t even pretend to understand their situation because he didn’t; yet he couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps they were going too fast, if maybe he was allowing his heat and need to mate take over whereas Thorin was allowing his own desires to do the thinking.

In the end, what Thranduil was really seeking was reassurance and this could only come when he accepted he broke a promise and was now falling in love with the dwarf walking beside him.

Thorin admired the work around him, his eyes went to the columns holding up the flames that brought deem light to the tables and the chairs aligned around the square. Many eyes turned to him, curiosity and some wariness could be read in some of the faces, but in general the elves of Dorwinion were very welcoming of the strangers and soon their laughter, they melodic voices and the idle chat filled the plaza while food and drinks were passed from table to table. Thorin and Thranduil were escorted to the King’s table, King Erumion stood up with his arms stretched welcoming both Princes with the same enthusiasm he had done so the day before.

The Dwarven-Prince couldn’t help but admire the long, black vest covering the shoulders of the King, or the silver circlet crowning his head, or even the dark red baggy pants covering his legs. Thorin bowed respectfully to the King and, for a brief moment, Thorin noticed a curious scar on the King’s body. Of course, Thorin was not stranger to war scars, he wasn’t a stranger of monarchs wearing some of them with pride. However, this mark was different. It went from his abdomen and lower in a perfect vertical line, much like the one he had seen on Thranduil a couple of times. Thorin furrowed his brows, he opened his mouth to ask about the scar but he was interrupted by the sound of drums filling the air.

“It has begun, please my Lords, sit and enjoy the show.” The King said sitting down on his throne, Thorin and Thranduil took their respective chairs one beside the other while four elves took over the square with four different drums.

They sat down sharing huge grins with one another; they played with the drumsticks hitting the base of the drums to bring the attention of the rest of the elves to them. It didn’t take too much time, everyone soon went silent and the elves started a soft humming while their fingers work the drumsticks. At once all four of them played the drums and soon a myriad of melodies filled the night, like raining falling down on a stormy night. Thorin watched with a half-smile on his face, his eyes followed the movements of the elves’ hands, they manipulated the drumsticks and the instruments as if they had been doing it for over a hundredth years, Thorin realized they probably had. 

“They are trying to imitate the weather.” Thúlon offered leaning in towards the dwarf, Thorin turned to the young elf then back to the musicians. “The big one is rain, the others are following the pace he sets, but now you can see it changing so they’re going from rain to thunder.”

Thorin heard the subtly of the changes, the pace of the song change and it became a series of stormy sounds that sounded like a scream coming from the sky, this effect was helped by the lightning of a path of fire surrounding the square. There were some gasps in the audience, soft giggling and Thorin found himself enamoured with the logistics of everything the elves were doing to create the right atmosphere.

“What are they trying to imitate now?” Thorin questioned when he realized one of the elves left his drum to pick up a golden plate, thick and of the diameter of the hand of the elf. The male picked it up and started playing it so softly, tentatively that it could barely be heard amongst the sound of the drums.

“Wind, he is trying to imitate the sound of blowing wind in the midst of a storm.” Thúlon reclined on his chair smiling at the attention Thorin was giving him. “We do not get rain the way you probably have, _Astalder._ But when we do, it usually is a combination of water and sand, it could turn dangerous for us. But, when it is winter it actually looks beautiful and the thunder breaks into the sky in a myriad of blue, silver or purple.”

While Thorin seemed to be paying attention to the show and hearing the explanation from Thúlon, Thranduil seemed to be deep in thought. The King glanced at him leaning slightly to see Thorin deeply engaged in conversation with his son.

“Are you enjoying _Mereth Lindalë_ , Prince Thranduil?” The King asked suddenly leaning closer for his conversation with Thranduil to be semi-private.

“I am, yes. It is a curious celebration.” Thranduil commented. “Not so much as what I’m used to.”

“That may be true; I heard you and Prince Thorin gave quite the show today at the Tahtib.” The King quirked a brow, his lips drawing a smile.  

Thranduil shifted slightly tilting his head to face the King, “A curious dance, if I may say it. This is where I can say we differ as a kin.”

“Indeed, I’ve heard dancing is only done as a mating or courting ritual.” King Erumion made a face of bafflement. “Strange, but you will see this costume of our people during the feast. Dancing and singing was done to let ourselves rest after so many days and months of moving from one place to another. But the night has always been for the lovers.”

“It does have its restrictions, yes.” Confirmed Thranduil, the Elven-Prince drifted slightly to allow his eyes a peripheral look of Thorin; the King softened his features drinking from his cup. “Still, it lacks no less beauty and meaning to our people.  I have seen many performed it with passion born out of love and commitment.”

“Are you going to dance tonight, Prince Thranduil?” The question caught Thranduil by surprise, the Elven-Prince turned completely to the King who was smiling innocently at the elf.

Thranduil tried to gauge the expression of the King; he tried to read something in the King’s face but could not do it. And, while he contemplated the King, he noticed his mind was agreeable with the idea of dancing, he felt his body tingling with anticipation of engaging Thorin in such an intimate act for his people while the Dwarven-Prince might enter the elven customary practice without complete knowledge of its meaning. Could he really do so if only to enjoy the intimacy with Thorin?

“You should think about it.” The King commented. “It could be beneficial for the both of you.”

And think about it Thranduil did.

He observed the performers playing the music while everyone enjoyed the food, the Elven-Prince drifted his attention away from the square when Thorin closed his hand around his arm with excitement written all over his face.

“Tell me, why your people does not have this kind of music?”

Thranduil felt his eyebrow twitched, at firs he thought Thorin was messing with him but seeing the seriousness on the dwarf’s face Thranduil understood this was not the case. Behind Thorin, Thúlon was hiding a mischievous smile which only earned him a cold glare from Thranduil.

“We do have this kind of music, Thorin.”

“No you don’t.” Thorin replied shaking his head.

“How are you so sure if you have never been to Mirkwood?” Thranduil questioned rolling his eyes.

“Dwalin told me.” Thorin replied rather smugly. “He would enjoy this, you know? It is strange he didn’t know about the Kingdom of Dorwinion but I am thinking on establishing some serious connections with them.”

Thranduil rolled his eyes again, of course Dwalin would like this the male dwarf was always up for making an uproar and loud music wherever he was. Dwalin would enjoy the simply joy of hitting an instrument while creating the right melody for his ears.

“What do you think?” Thorin asked as if he hadn’t noticed Thranduil’s attention drifting momentarily.

“Of what?” The Elven-Prince blinked confusedly.

“That we can establish some commercial and even diplomatic ties with Dorwinion.” Thorin said in all seriousness, Thranduil blinked a couple of times without missing the implications of the ‘we’.

“Oh, I believe Prince Thorin you are thinking like a right leader and a King.” Thranduil finally conceded.

Thorin shifted shaking his head, “Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“As if it was your duty to humour me or something…”

Thranduil softened lightly, he leaned in placing his hand on top of Thorin’s one, “I am not. I would never humour you when my witty honesty can earn me some of your most amusing reactions.”

Thorin snorted quirking a brow at the smirk drawing on the Elven-Prince’s face.

“I really think this is a great idea and you really are thinking ahead of time, as a leader should do so.” Thranduil looked around before settling his eyes on Thorin. “It won’t be easy but it doesn’t mean it can’t be done.”

*****

The moon was at its highest point by the time everyone joined in a strange dance in the middle of the square. Thorin couldn’t decipher where the music was coming from, his face crunched up in a mixture of puzzlement and distaste at the softness of the music. Thranduil turned to him smiling amusedly when Thorin snorted shaking his head while emptying yet another glass of wine. The dwarf flickered his nose shaking his head.

“I was enjoying the other music.” Thorin finally said crossing his arms.

“Yes, I noticed that.” Thranduil replied still highly amused, he turned to see many pairings occupying the now improvised dance floor, all of them joining in a group dance done to twirl around stepping forward and backwards, changing partners with grace and elegance giving a full round through the dancers until, at the very end, everyone was with the partner they started with.

Thorin observed this with uncertainty, he saw as many of the elves only engaged themselves with a single partner the intimacy of the dance went to the proximity the fair creatures shared with one another. The position of the hands and even the locking of stares gave the right pace to the swiftly movements of music and dancing. He found it strange and different, after a few more performances of different musicians many of the presents started filling the grounds to dance and, while at first it seemed a happy with hints of comradeship, it changed into what Thorin was observing now. He found himself at lost for never before had he seen a dance performed by two and not a group; it seemed to the Dwarven-Prince as if it was made by couples stamping and hopping while keeping their hands joined twirling around while locking eyes with one another. The Dwarves of Erebor certainly didn’t do this; they moved as a group and shared their times with merry and loudly melodies.

“Why the sudden change?” Thorin finally asked.

Thranduil tensed lightly his eyes staring very far away from the dancers, to a moment and place where Thorin knew the Elven-Prince usually went when he felt like sharing something intimated.

“This is a courting dance.” Thranduil finally said. “It is done for couples or people you intended to mate or bond with.”

“Oh.” Was all Thorin could say, he lowered his gaze to the glass on his hand the conversation of the few elves around them turned loud in his ears while he weight his options.

They  had already kiss and there was nothing more intimated for a dwarf than a kiss, Thorin glanced at Thranduil out of the corner of his eyes to see the Prince was restless, his eyes moving anxiously from the dance floor to the table. Thorin was at lost as to what to do, he knew what his heart desired, he had known so for a very long time; but, what did Thranduil want? That was an answer he didn’t have clear in his mind. The night was getting older and morning was approaching, another day was just a few hours away and Thorin knew they would have to go back to the reality of their lives.  Placing the cup at the table, Thorin turned to Thranduil just as the Elven-Prince turned to him with his right hand outstretched.

Both Princes stared at one another, doubts, fears and reluctance could be read in both of them. Thorin seized this change to give himself a chance to break the promises he made to himself the day he lost his mother and his brother to the ambition of a King; he gave a half-smile to the elf who was trembling with anticipation, who was exposing himself in ways he hadn’t done so in the past. Thranduil was asking not only Thorin but the Valar to give him a chance at happiness, to not let it slip through his fingers as it had done so many times in his life. He felt his inner omega begging for the bond, he felt his heart, always cold and collected begging his reason to give in. He could even hear his mind telling him to stop protecting himself and allow Thorin the chance to get closed to him.

“I know it seems boring to you but, would you mind accompanying me in a dance?” Thranduil finally said giving Thorin a half-smile of his own; his face lifted slightly to the sky in a show of confidence Thorin had come to appreciate.

Thorin stood placing his right hand to his chest in the same way he had seen elves do it in the past, then he took Thranduil by his hand feeling the warm coming from the elf. Thranduil smirked, his face was a mask of pure confidence, but his blue eyes were gleaming with hesitation asking Thorin to be kind with him.

“I would be very honoured if you show me how this strange dance is done, Prince Thranduil.” Thorin spoke elegantly, almost diplomatically to which Thranduil couldn’t help but chuckle standing up to lead Thorin to the improvise dancing floor.

“The height difference is going to be a problem.” Thranduil commented lightly looking down at Thorin.

“My height has never seemed to be a problem when we kissed.” Thorin replied lightly enjoying the blush forming on those clear cheeks.

It was clear for Thorin there was something _different_ about this performance, he could feel the weight of several stares on them with Thranduil tensed around his shoulders, with his blue eyes gleaming strangely at him. They made their way to a clear spot in the square grounds, the Elven-Prince shifted the weight of his body from one leg to another while his right hand grabbed Thorin’s left one, Thranduil stared at Thorin with the dwarf watching at their joined hands. With swift, elegant motions Thranduil opened his and Thorin’s palm until they were joined by their palms. Thorin quirked a brow seeking some sort of explanation from the elf, but Thranduil merely smiled even though he was incapable of hiding his nervousness or the trembling of his body at the sudden intimacy they were sharing.

“Are you cold?” Thorin finally asked earning himself a half-snort and half-chuckle from the elf who shook his head.

“I’m all right.” Thranduil whispered. “I’m just…I’ve never done this…not even with Haldir.”

Thorin swallowed looking around them where many elves male and female were already engaged in the dance. The Dwarven-Prince could see the couples smiling or sharing tender moments, some of them were moving tentatively as if this was the first time they were doing such a performance, while other seemed to have been doing this for a long time. Thorin tilted his head with his eyes now completely focused on Thranduil, admiring the soft almost silvery light coming from the elf.

“Is it wrong you’re doing it with me?” Thorin finally asked hesitating for a second, his hand trying to move away until Thranduil intertwined their fingers.

“The thing is, Thorin, I can only do this with you.” Thranduil revealed in a soft whisper meant only for the dwarf.

Thorin frowned puzzle but Thranduil didn’t offer an explanation, he simply quirked a brow to indicate Thorin to be ready. The music played into the night and Thranduil was soon guiding Thorin around the dance floor. Thorin had never claimed to be a graceful dancer or to even know much about it, he certainly lack grace or even the right beauty to go twirling around with a bunch of elves in the way he was doing right now.  Thranduil, on the other hand, was pure poetry on motion, his long limbs gave him enough leverage to slide in the ground, making it look as if he was floating instead of stepping back and forth. The Dwarven-Prince could see some of the pairings dancing around them were watching them with interested, some of this stares were amused while some others shook their heads in disapproval.  Whenever Thorin caught someone looking at them with disapproval he would growl glaring until the elves would move past them looking away under the amused stare of Thranduil.

“I don’t like them looking at us that way.” Thorin finally grumbled. “I know I’m not the most graceful dancer but…”

“It’s not because of you.” Thranduil interrupted the tirade with his face softening slightly. At Thorin’s questioning look Thranduil elaborated while guiding Thorin around the dance floor. “Dancing is the way my people express their _nature_. It is not respectable or even completely accepted for _me_ to be guiding in the dance.”

“That’s stupid.” Thorin stopped shaking his head; the music was slowing down until it stopped as well.

“It is what it is.” Thranduil replied feeling his heart lighter, his hand squeezing Thorin’s lightly.  

As soon as the new melody started, Thranduil found himself under familiar music. He knew what was expected of their oncoming dance, his limbs tingled in anticipation while his heart beat a tad bit faster, his mind clouding slightly when he thought of pressing closer to the dwarf in front of him.

“Now, the song has changed and so is the dance.” Thranduil commented lightly, Thorin snorted pursing his lips.

“More slow dancing?” He asked half-joking, half-seriously.

Thorin was expecting some mocking comment or even a roll of eyes, but what he got was a very flustered elf who suddenly pursed his lips and look away. The Dwarven-Prince furrowed his brows; he glanced around but soon returned his attention to the male in front of him when he felt the cooling touch of a hand on his uncovered chest. Thranduil stood his full height, his face was put into an expressionless mask only broken by the red on his cheeks and the strange gleaming in those blue eyes. Thorin hoped the Elven-Prince could not feel just how nervous he was or how much desired he was beginning to feel. The shadow of his father tried to come into his mind, but a strange calmness came over him, a calmness he could only associated with Thranduil.

The music started mixing up with the night, the dancers around them started a play of walking around, teasing one another while both Princes stood there in their own confusion and emotions. Thranduil had never felt so nervous in his life, it was such a strange feeling of hopefulness and yet he was enjoying the feeling of the heart beat under his palm. He could feel Thorin in ways he hadn’t before, he could read the Dwarven-Prince just as easily as Thorin always seemed to do with him.

There were not words between them.

There was no need for them.

Thorin felt a light push coming from the hand on his chest, Thranduil stepped forward until his foot was in between Thorin’s legs. The dwarf gasped shivering slightly taking a step back, Thranduil nodded briefly and then he pushed again.  Soon they were walking, or more precisely, Thranduil seemed to be ´pushing him around always making it possible for their legs to be intertwined to direct in which direction Thorin should go.

At first, Thorin didn’t understand what was happening. He felt ridiculous being moved around by the Elven-Prince while always being at arm’s length from the elf.  Soon, though, he caught with the playful gleamed in those blue eyes, with the lifting of those soft lips and the invitation done by the music around them.  Thorin remembered then this dancing around in pairs was done as a way of courting and, while Thorin didn’t pretend not try to hold tight to the illusion this might mean Thranduil was _courting_ him, he knew now what he must do.

With a confidence born out of his own character, Thorin lifted his own hand and placed right in the middle of Thranduil’s chest. The Dwarven-Prince couldn’t help the half smirk drawing on his lips, when Thranduil faltered on his footsteps, the Elven-Prince gasped looking down at the hand now firmly placed on his chest.

“Now I get it.” Thorin whispered pushing lightly; Thranduil drifted his eyes to the dwarf nodding briefly.

Soon their walking and twirling around the dancing room turned into something familiar between them. It was more a battle of wits, something they both enjoyed greatly while moving under the magic of the music. It came easier for the dwarf once he understood what this was all about, it wasn’t just pushing around and making one another to follow certain steps, it was a silent invitation to push each other to their limits. Thorin smiled when Thranduil seemed to fall easily in the pattern he was setting, it was now Thorin’s turned to feel the heartbeat of Thranduil under his palm. 

Whenever Thorin seemed to lose his footing, Thranduil was there to help him back in track. They soon turned left, then right, their hands firmly placed on the other while their feet seemed to be intertwine to allow an easier guidance. The dwarf pushed forward, his hand feeling the heart beat getting uncontrolled under his hand, he felt the warm coming from Thranduil and then…then, Thorin felt something more. But he didn’t have time to think about this for soon he was the one guiding Thranduil, pushing until the elf gave in.  Thorin stepped forward and Thranduil stepped back, he went to the right and Thranduil tried to go the other way but a single brushed of Thorin’s fingertips stopped the elf, Thranduil tilted his head locking his blue eyes with Thorin’s ones, holding his stare until a light shoved from Thorin made Thranduil turned and go in the direction Thorin wanted.

“Your heart is beating really fast.” Thranduil commented in a whisper.

“My heart is beating…”Thorin trailed off for a moment before speaking again. “I think it’s beating for you.”

Thranduil lowered his gaze quite shyly, his lips curled up with a smug tainted in there, “Are you turning into a poet now, Prince Thorin?”

Thorin chuckled his fingertips brushing the smooth skin of the elf’s chest, “Perhaps, do not expect more comments like this though, I would hate for you to get use to them only to be disappointed.”

“You could never be a disappointment to me, Thorin.” Thranduil replied honestly.

Thorin didn’t respond, instead he continued their dance until the distance brought by their arms was shortened by them moving closer to one another. There was no more walking, instead of this their legs seemed to fall into a pattern in which they would cross to make them twirl around in place, circling one another in defiance. Thranduil smirked and Thorin mirrored his expression, but even as they pretended this was a game, their eyes were telling another story. Desire could be read in those eyes, affection was gleaming with intensity and both Princes understood there was no going back and there was no more running away from the other. It simply could not be for the both of them were already far too in love with one another to do so.

The dance was over as well as the song.

Conversation, laughter and other things were happening around them but Thorin had eyes only for Thranduil and Thranduil had only eyes for Thorin.  Thranduil was the first one to step away, lowering his hand to place it at his side; Thorin for his part kept his firmly in place, his eyes gleaming while his fingertips caressed the smooth skin tentatively.

If they both had been confused before, they now felt completely and utterly lost.

“I think…I’m going from some wine.” Thorin finally stepped away and left.

Thranduil’s face fell; he closed his eyes only to open them again with his body aching to be touched in an intimate way by Thorin.  Even after all that had happened between them, after everything Thorin had revealed that day, Thranduil was still scare of this glimpse of happiness slipping away before it had the chance to even begin.

By the time Thorin had calmed himself he was repeating in his mind what Thranduil had said to him early in the day. He was not his father, he would never be Thráin. Thorin knew what he felt for Thranduil was not only desire or lust. Thorin glanced at the red wine on his goblet sighing, what he felt for Thranduil was love, the same love he swore to never feel for anyone so as to not fall victim of unrequired love like his mother.

“Is there something the matter, Prince Thorin?” King Erumion approached him startling the thoughtful dwarf, Thorin turned to him shaking his head.

“Not really, I was contemplating the wisdom behind drinking another glass of Dorwinion wine.” Thorin commented lightly, the King furrowed his brows lightly.

“I see.” The King approached the table grabbing the bottle filled with wine before serving two different glasses. “You may as well take some to Prince Thranduil, I just saw him leaving the festival rather upset.”

Thorin looked confused he took the goblets offered by the King who offered a light nod, “It may be nothing but I believe you should go to him.”

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

No one prepared these two Princes for the things to come.

No one even prepared them for one another, whatever began the day their engagement had been announced was something they couldn’t predict and they had fought with stubbornness to get away from one another. It had taken some time but, in the end, both of them started to give in each other. Some would believe it was fate, some other’s would say it was coincidence; whatever it was it certainly came as a surprised for everyone involved in this situation.

As Thorin made his way back to the tent he wasn’t thinking of the implications of his closeness to the Elven-Prince. He was more worried about Thranduil and why he had left than in what was waiting for them in the near future.

Thorin looked around to see only darkness and hear only silence.

He reached his tent with both golden cups still on his hand, the Dwarven-Prince shifted slightly, his eyebrows furrowing when he sensed the sudden uneasiness coming from inside the tent. Thranduil was in there, of that Thorin had not doubt, but the Elven-Prince was rather anxious about something.  Without waiting any longer, Thorin entered his tent only to see Thranduil resting on the sofa with his head firmly planted on the back of the chair; Thranduil’s blue eyes seemed to be the only thing gleaming in the darkness. Thranduil didn’t move but he did tense when Thorin approached him, the dwarf placed the goblets on the table and sat right beside Thranduil lifting his head and positioning himself much in the same way Thranduil was sat.

“What are we watching?” Thorin finally asked frowning while trying to see the material of the tent.

Thranduil snorted but his lips curled up in a tender smile, his eyes turned to stare at Thorin who was really trying to see something in the ceiling of the tent. It was a strange moment consumed in the darkness of a foreign land, Thorin observing the ceiling of a tent while Thranduil watched him with care and thoughtfulness.  While in solitary, Thranduil had been remained of his lessons as a Prince; he remembered how his father always taught him to hear reason, to always be attentive to the wise council of his own intelligence and capacity to analyse a situation. It was reason and not emotions what should dominate the life of a Prince cursed to be an omega.  Thranduil had tried to listen, for a very long time he did even when his heart was asking him to follow Haldir or to sail into the great waters of the sea.  The last time Thranduil decided to hear reason over his own heart, Legolas was taken away at birth and Thranduil was left to life through the motions.

Thorin crunched up his face, scowling to the empty space while turning his head in slow motion. His black eyes found those blue irises of the Elven-Prince watching him cautiously but tenderly.

Thranduil knew he had been feeling the moment he asked Thorin to dance with him and the Dwarven-Prince accepted it. Thorin knew he had been feeling it ever since they engaged in the Tahtib dance; either way, both of them ended up engage in another kiss. Thranduil hold the face of the dwarf with his right hand closing his eyes while trying to memorize the taste of those lips.

There was nothing else to say, there was nothing else to think; both Princes kissed with a passion they didn’t know they still possess. For the very first time since he lost Haldir and Legolas was taken away from him at birth, Thranduil felt content. He smiled through the kiss giving in the teasing scratch of Thorin’s beard on his clean chin and those lips moulding against his, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

Thranduil broke the kiss breathing hard, he nuzzled Thorin’s beard smiling softly while snuggling closer to the dwarf, his face moving to Thorin’s neck his warm breathing caressing the expose skin of Thorin who wrapped his arms tightly around the elf putting him on top of him. Thranduil opened his eyes in surprise, fixing himself so he sat on the dwarf’s lap.

“What are we doing?” Thorin finally asked closing his eyes when Thranduil placed his forehead against Thorin’s one.

“I don’t know.” Thranduil responded truthfully trying to get his breathing under control. Thorin stared into those blue eyes so close to him, his hand caressing the sides of the elven body while ignoring his growing arousal.

“I don’t want to be another Bard.” Thorin said breaking the moment with his sheer honesty.

Thranduil tensed his eyes hardening for an instant, Thorin stopped him before he could move away. The Dwarven-Prince wrapped his arms around him keeping him in place.

“I mean not offense, but I want you to know I won’t be like him. I refuse to be a game or someone to be there for you when there is a primal need in you.” Thorin wondered how he was capable of such complete sentences when he had the beautiful elf on his lap, so close to him with those lips swollen from their early kissing.

Thranduil sighed cupping the dwarf’s face with his hands, “This has nothing to do with my heat, or any kind of primal need coming from me. You are not like Bard, Thorin. I was not fair with him, but what I feel for you I have never felt for Bard…”

“Then, I do not want to be a ghost.” Thorin insisted wanting to be sure what they were about to do was not something Thranduil could transform into an excuse to hurt him.  He needed for Thranduil to understand Dwarves loved only once, and he could not give everything he was to someone who might not be there tomorrow.

Sex was easier if it wasn’t for the fact Thorin was completely involved by now; but even as he kept bringing some logical protests, he knew he would give Thranduil whatever he wanted or needed.

“You are not.” Thranduil replied feeling slightly offended, he closed his hands around the blue shirt of Thorin his face a mask of pure seriousness when he spoke to the Dwarven-Prince.

“You think this is easy for me? To accept I’m falling in love with a dwarf I thought I despise? Do you think it is easy for me to understand and accept I’m already bond to you? That being away from you is unbearable? Do you really think it is easy for me to try and give in when I am afraid this glimpse of happiness could be taken away from me at any moment?”

Thorin was staring at Thranduil strangely, Thranduil felt ridiculous now at having expose himself so much, at having given up in his most basic instinct only to be doubted and stared at so oddly. He was about to stand up from the dwarf’s lap when Thranduil put him closer, his right hand cupping with gentleness the wounded cheek of the elf.

“You’re falling in love with me?” Thorin asked softly, his eyes gleaming hopefully while his lips seemed to form a content smile.

Thranduil opened his eyes realizing he had said so in his little tirade, he looked away sighing exasperatedly.

“That’s all you caught from my…” Thranduil couldn’t finish his sentence for he soon found himself occupied with a pair of lips against his.

No more words were said at the moment, there could only be tender touches and tentative kisses. Thorin would pour his emotions in the kiss while putting Thranduil closer to him, their breathings were laboured and their need was evident. A part of Thranduil wanted to purse things further, to finally seal their fate and let Thorin claim him. But they couldn’t and when he moved away from Thorin the Dwarven-Prince understood.

Those calloused fingertips where caressing his neck, “We can’t, right?”

Thranduil hid his face on the dwarf’s neck, his voice trembling when he spoke, “If we do so now…with me in heat and my heart beating just for yours, this could end up with more than you and me bonding.”

Thorin nodded trying to get control over his own emotions, “I…I wouldn’t say no to a kid.”

Thranduil snort a laughter nuzzling Thorin’s neck, “I wish we could…right now I need to feel you, I want you to fill me in ways I haven't feel in a long time.”

Thorin bit the inside of his cheeks, his hands wrapping tightly around the waist of the Elven-Prince while the warm breath of Thranduil caressed his skin.

“You need to move or else I won’t be able to stop…” Thorin warned his hands moving in soothing circles on the lower back of the elf.

Thranduil didn’t move he closed his eyes instead opening his mouth to suck on the pulse point of the dwarf. Thorin growled turning them around and placing Thranduil on his back against the sofa, the Dwarven-Prince hovered over him before crashing his lips against Thranduil’s. They kissed hard, those clever hands of Thorin moving down the expose chest of the Elven-Prince drawing patterns with expertise while removing the obstacles presented to him. Thranduil moaned into the dwarf’s mouth, his hands placing themselves on the shoulders of the Prince struggling to get the shirt away while Thorin tore his mouth away from the kiss.

Thranduil closed his eyes biting his lower lip while arching his body, his lips opening to allow a needy moan escaped them the moment Thorin wrapped his lips in the earlobe of an elven ear. The dwarf’s hand struggled with the ties holding the leggings around the lower part of the elf, his mouth working down the ear to the slender neck of the elf, Thranduil tilted his head his left hand wrapping around Thorin’s back putting him closer while the other hurried to work on the dwarf’s leggings.

They forgot about the reasons why they couldn't. All that matter was the feeling of one another and how much they needed this.

They both entered a world of pure and unadulterated passion; tomorrow they would ask themselves why they had give in their desires. Thranduil would question his sanity while Thorin would try to convince him everything was going to be fine. Tomorrow they would think about the consequences of a night of desire and silent promises. Not the ones they had already broken but the ones they were starting to forge.

Tomorrow Thorin would wake up wrapped around elven limbs while remembering he didn't like sleeping accompanied, and Thranduil would wake up remembering elves didn't sleep.

Tomorrow they would wake up as one and Thorin would make sure Thranduil never forget he could be happy with the dwarf; if he only give it a single chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry!! Next chapter it's not going to be so rushed and Thorin and Thranduil would enjoy themselves properly. There are going to be some serious conversations again and the Princes leave the land of Dorwinion to go to Dáin's rescue.
> 
> Now, some explanations; when I thought about Dwarven dancing I thought about this: https :// www. youtube. com/ watch?v= ujo65bBRQ4I - This is such a beautiful dance and it actually looks as something I envisioned for the dwarves to do as a way of comradeship.  
> However, when I thought about the elves and after asking in Tumblr, I realized their dancing style, as a group would be something like ballet; whereas the dance meant for couples would be like this: https :// www. youtube.com /watch?v= JfKe_s3w3cM - But, when I thought about the dancing between Thorin and Thranduil I certainly thought about Tango.
> 
> The Tahtib is a martial art, a Middle Eastern martial art that sometimes is done with music and as a way of dancing. 
> 
> I really hope you guys like this chapter because it was so hard to write mainly because I have to decide if this last scene was necessary. I decided I have torture you enough and, while this may not be completely what I was trying to do next chapter would bring more naughty adventures between the two princes.


	14. The End of the Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They wake up feeling different, now they are back to their reality and the world is not waiting for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys! I love you so much, each comment and kudos and everything brings happiness to my heart. I can't thank you enough for giving me this chance of writing this story and for you to read it.  
> This chapter is sort of a prelude but it's also a step in the direction of more troubles for our two Princes.
> 
> Le annon veleth nín – I give my love to you  
> Almaner – good fortune  
> Ecyon – sharp one.  
> Nanda – according to the elfdict it means water-mead, watered plain, which I thought could be a nice way to describe the oasis they’re visiting. 
> 
> I apologize for my grammar, my spelling and this is the first time I write smut so, I apologize for this as well. I hope you enjoy it.

**Chapter 14**

**The End of the Dream**

 

Dawn was breaking on the horizon.

The morning approached with sweet aromas filling the air, the warm of the day rose slightly while the silence became deafening. Nothing was moving, and no one was emitting a sound inside the Kingdom of Dorwinion.

For Thorin Oakenshield, this was a complete surprised but it was a welcoming one. Sleep had not come easily for him; the reason behind this snuggled closer to him, the face of the Elven-Prince rested comfortably on the crook of his neck, the warm breath of elven breathing caressed his skin. The Dwarven-Prince lowered his eyes to see the fair features of Thranduil; they were completely relaxed with just a hint of a smile and a different light coming from the golden hair.  Thorin could not believe his luck; he could not believe fate was smiling at him so brightly allowing him to hold the elf in his arms after the night they spent together. While it was true Thorin could not sleep easily while accompanied; he wouldn’t change those elven arms wrapped around his torso, or the leg threw carelessly around his own legs.  Thorin would not change the chance of having been with Thranduil even if that meant he was dangerously close to the edge of the bed with his arms awkwardly place to his sides.  The Dwarven-Prince smiled recalling how easily had been for Thranduil to just snuggle against him after they had finished, how whispers in elvish reached the dwarf’s ears before Thranduil had fallen into a deep sleep. Thorin couldn’t help but softened at the sight of Thranduil sleeping right beside him, last night they had sealed their fates and Thorin could feel it in his heart and his soul whatever they had done it had brought them closer to one another.

Thorin lifted his arm to brush away some strands of blond hair, Thranduil shifted slightly but continued with his slumber, his soft thigh brushing lightly against Thorin’s crotch. Thorin opened his eyes wide tensing completely ready to run away under the unfamiliar touch; the Dwarven-Prince swallowed trying to get his breathing under control. That innocent touch brought to him the memories of last night; he couldn’t help but remember every single touch, every single kiss, how tight Thranduil felt, how much he enjoyed the soft whimpers leaving those slightly open lips, so swollen after the kissing.  Thorin growled in frustration feeling his body reacted to the memories and the closeness of the elf; he didn’t know why or how but, for some reason, he felt connect to the elf in ways he hadn’t before.  It was as if last night had meant to be and Thorin wanted nothing more than to repeat it to reassure himself the male beside him was not a dream. The dwarf clenched his eyes close trying to get his own desires under control, he tried to calm himself while stopping any indecorous images in his mind; however, another inappropriate caress against his length made him jump startled falling on his ass and back on the ground.

Light chuckles reached his ears; Thorin lifted his face to see Thranduil resting on the bed with his blue eyes twinkling merrily through half lidded eyes. Thorin was about to protest but his eyes fell upon the dazzling form of the Elven-Prince; Thorin had never seen Thranduil looking so entrancing or even relaxed. He was lying on his stomach with his left arm hanging off of the bed, his blond hair sprawled on his back and falling untidily on his face. His blue eyes were gleaming with affection and happiness, his mouth curled up in a lazy smile.  Thorin grunted sitting up feeling his body tingled all over while his erection stirred in appreciation; Thranduil chuckled again, his eyes moving to the dwarf’s crotch a faint red tinged his cheeks.

“Is there a reason why you are on the ground?” Thranduil asked in a raspy voice filled with sleep and hints of desire.

Thorin narrowed his eyes placing his hands on top of his groin, he felt his cheeks warm but he knew there was more than embarrassment behind his reaction.  There was also a desire to wipe away the infuriating smirk on the elf’s face along with smugness at having gotten such an open reaction from the elf. They both stared at one another noticing things they hadn’t noticed before; for Thranduil it was the sudden need to feel Thorin closer, to let his fingertips enjoy the roughness of dwarvish skin or the ticklish sensation of the dwarf’s beard. For Thorin, it was the familiar scent of sweet wine, growing trees and the forest in the midst of winter. A musky aroma he had come to associate with Thranduil.

“This is your fault.” Thorin finally answered lifting his chin, Thranduil adopted an innocent look blinking lazily to the dwarf.

“My fault? Whatever I did to make you jump out of the bed?” Thranduil smiled and Thorin could only stare. How could the elf play such an innocent character? How could he act so innocently when Thorin knew this was far from the truth? How did they relationship change overnight?

The Dwarven-Prince knew this was not true, they relationship had been building up for quite some time. They had been stubborn and there were things they still needed to clear to one another but, for now, all that matter was the huge leap of faith they took the night before.  Thorin snorted leaning forward; he ran his eyes on the naked form of the elf drinking in the beauty of the white, smooth skin, the curving form of slender back and fullness and firmness of the back rear of the elf. Thorin returned his eyes to the blue eyes still staring at him half innocently half mischievously; Thorin was about to answer with wit and sarcasm, yet he could only lean forward until his lips were barely touching Thranduil’s.

“You are perfect.”

Thranduil sighed softening his features before leaning into the softest caress of Dwarven lips; it was nothing like what they shared the night before. Then, Thranduil had felt the rush of passion and lust, his body had ached with primal need. Now their kiss was filled with affection, tenderness and love; Thranduil felt his heart beat faster, his body tingling with emotions he never experienced before.  His left arm wrapped around Thorin putting him closer until the dwarf shifted, tilting his head deepening the kiss.

Soon, Thranduil found himself on his back with Thorin on top of him again.  The dwarf lifted his right hand caressing the still wounded cheek of the elf with tenderness, his lips curling up while his eyes pinned Thranduil to the bed. At the moment, the world disappeared from around them while their minds ease, their bodies preparing them to intensify the emotions behind every touch and every kiss. Thranduil trembled feeling his hröa gave in the touches coming from the dwarf while his fëa entwined around the mortal soul of Thorin.  Never before had a dwarf and an elf shared the existence of such an strange union, both of them were trembling with their minds hardly comprehending what was happening. 

Thranduil only knew he needed Thorin, and Thorin only knew he needed to care for Thranduil. They didn’t hesitated when their eyes gleamed moments before their lips joined in searing kiss.

This time around their kiss was different, it was honest with hints of tenderness and affection, it came with everything that had been said and everything they couldn’t express. Their lips danced around just as Thorin became more adventurous stroking the smooth skin under calloused fingertips; the Dwarven-Prince teased the sensitive flesh whilst his lips tore soft whimpers from Thranduil.

For the elf there was nothing else but Thorin, he relaxed into the kiss his own arms placing themselves around the strong back of the dwarf, putting him closer while he lifted a single leg to position it around Thorin’s waist.  The position was slightly awkward, but Thranduil didn’t care, he need to be as close to Thorin as the dwarf allowed it while his clever fingers teased his body.  Thorin broke the kiss closing his eyes to enjoy the soft protest coming from Thranduil, his lips curled up when those sounds of protest changed into moans of want when the dwarf allowed his lips a rough, tantalizing dance around the elf’s neck. Thorin was enjoying the taste of Thranduil’s skin, nibbling the pulse point while his beard tickled the skin under it.  Thranduil tightened his hold on the dwarf’s back and soon Thorin was lying completely on top of Thranduil, his erection trapped between his abdomen and part of Thranduil’s torso.

“Thorin…” Thranduil breathed out closing his eyes while arching his back; he tilted his head to the side to allow Thorin more access. Thorin used this to his advantaged nipping the place right under the elf’s ear.

Thranduil moaned loudly whispering in elvish, Thorin smiled nuzzling the elf’s neck while his hand brushed the naked torso of the elf.  With some difficulty Thorin lifted his body placing his hands at each side of Thranduil’s head while his knees positioned themselves at each side of the elf’s waist. Thranduil growled in protest, his eyes opening lightly flashing fear and desire when they fell upon the black eyes of the dwarf.  He was afraid this moment would end to soon, he could not help the fear gripping at his heart at the thought of this vanishing at any moment. But his fears were soon scared away by a single glance of those black eyes, Thorin reached out to him stroking his right cheek while his eyes took on an interesting gleam. In that moment, the Elven-Prince felt his soul warm up reaching out to Thorin’s own soul.

Thranduil opened his eyes in understanding, his heart beating fast expectant and excited at the process of the both of them becoming one.

Nevertheless, before Thranduil could say anything Thorin captured his lips in another passionate kiss, the dwarf lowered his right hand while holding himself up with his left hand. Soon Thranduil was arching his back, moaning into the kiss when Thorin closed his right hand around the leaking length of the elf. He stroke Thranduil slowly, teasingly. Soon the dwarf broke the kiss, licking and nibbling the length of the elf’s neck, moving lower and lower positioning himself in between Thranduil’s legs. Thranduil gasped lifting his hips when Thorin sucked on his collarbone, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

“Thorin…” His name escaped the elf’s lips in a heated whisper whatever kind of explanations he knew Thorin was entitled to soon leave the mind of the elf. Thorin had overcome by desire, his mouth worked firmly on the elf’s neck his hips pressing down while Thranduil could only gasp bucking his hips in response.

Thorin gasped moaning with his hand still tightly wrapped around Thranduil’s erection. Thorin rested his forehead in the elf’s chest, trying to get himself under control, he let go of the elf’s cock lifting his eyes to see Thranduil looking back at him. Later on, Thranduil and Thorin would wonder how could they get mixed such deep emotions in the heat of the moment, how they could feel so much while in the midst of passion. For now, Thorin could only stare at Thranduil, his right hand traveling down until his fingers found the tight hole of the elf ready for him. Thorin swallowed feeling his own erection stirring impatiently; Thranduil bucked his hips again biting his lower lip.

“ _Le annon veleth nín, Thorin.”_ Thranduil whispered his hand caressing the dwarf’s face, his words piercing Thorin deep inside his heart, the Dwarven-Prince understood without needing to speak elvish.

“Thranduil.” Thorin spoke his name like a prayer; adoration was evident in his eyes while his face softened in affection.

“Please…” Thranduil implored softly. “Take me.”

Thorin tilted his head leaning against the open palm, his finger prod lightly sneaking inside the tight hole that was still tender after last night. Thranduil bucked his hips again, his eyes rolling back while he let out a soft whimper.

“ _Meleth nîn_ …” Thranduil mumbled wondering if Thorin understood what he was doing to him. Everything felt different, never before not even with Bard or even Haldir, had Thranduil felt this complete, this loved.

Thorin kept observing the elf with his finger teasing around before moving away, he leaned forward kissing the expose chest nibbling at the tender skin while he positioned himself at the entrance of the elf. Did Thranduil understand what he was doing to him? Did the elf comprehend Thorin’s heart was beating only for him? Did Thranduil understand Thorin could only love once and he was sealing his fate by giving everything he was to the Elven-Prince?

The moment Thranduil wrapped his long, slender legs around him lifting his hips while putting the dwarf down, Thorin knew it didn’t matter. None of the answers to his unasked questions matter because he had already loved Thranduil and now he would not stop. Thorin growled placing his erection at Thranduil’s entrance thrusting once until he was half way inside the elf, Thranduil screamed out arching his back, throwing his head back while clenching his inner muscles around Thorin.

“Thranduil…” This time around it was Thorin’s turned to whisper the elf’s name. “I love you.”

It escaped him before he could do something about it; Thorin placed his right hand around the elf’s waist rolling his hips lifting his head to stare into Thranduil’s face.  Thranduil was torn between the intense pleasure he was feeling and the bad contained emotions those three words brought to him. Thorin swallowed thrusting his hips in short, quick movements; there was nothing neither of them could say at the moment. They could only feel and that’s what they did.

“Thorin…” Thranduil gasped, his hands trembling while they too moved to map the face of the dwarf.  Their eyes met and Thranduil could not help the soft moans leaving his lips whenever Thorin entered him thrusting back and forth building up a steady rhythm while holding onto the body writhing under his.

Thorin tilted his head, his heart was beating really fast, and there was a thin layer of sweat on his skin while his eyes darkened at the sight. There had never been something so beautiful as the form of the elf sprawled under him, his hair dishevelled on the pillows with those blue eyes darker than usual, lips red from the kissing lightly parted in an expression of arousal and silent pleasure. Thorin hadn’t realized he had been so rough in his kissing, he wasn’t even aware of the love bites he left all through the elf’s body.  He had been so busy thinking about tasting more of Thranduil, wanting him to squirm under the ministrations of his mouth he never realized he could have left his marks everywhere. Something strange, primal awoke inside him, a voice told him this was what he was supposed to do while another voice that sounded exactly like Thranduil’s told him he was not his father. Thorin was brought back to reality when Thranduil thrust his hips forward in an attempted to impale himself on the dwarf’s hardened member. The dwarf lowered his face gasping in pleasure while he pressed forward speeding up his thrusting.

There was nothing like being inside Thranduil, this was the second time Thorin experienced it and he knew he was getting addicted already. He could feel the warm encasing him with the occasional squeezed just as Thranduil bucked his hips breathing hard. Thorin lifted his head in concern, his hands placing themselves around the waist of the elf, his thumbs caressing the skin while he lowered his head to kiss the expose chest, nuzzling the elf wherever he could reach. Thranduil felt his eyes watered his heart beat with a tingling sensation that went all around his body. Thranduil looked down to see Thorin looking back at him; the Elven-Prince wanted nothing more than for this moment to last forever.

The height difference made it impossible for Thorin to kiss Thranduil while he pushed inside the warm tightness that was Thranduil. The dwarf grabbed those hips while his thrusts intensified, he felt his erection being stroke deep inside Thranduil joined in ways months ago Thorin never thought possible.  The sound of flesh hitting flesh filled the tent; Thorin felt his pleasure building up making him jerked his hips in a different angle. Thorin closed his eyes grunting when Thranduil moaned wantonly with his hips jerking uncontrollably the moment Thorin’s erection brushed against that sensitive spot inside him; Thranduil whimpered when Thorin hit the spot again and again, his hips trying to keep a constant pace while his insides burn with his oncoming climax.

Thranduil groaned the sudden stimulation made him breathless, his voice faltering while his heart seemed to intertwine with the beating heart of the dwarf. Both of them were joined in a strange dance, so much different than the one they had performed the night before, so much meaningful now that they seemed to give in one another.

Thranduil closed his eyes throwing his head back while his arms moved themselves to embrace Thorin close to him. Thorin grabbed Thranduil hard, his hips moving back and forth, trying to make the sensations last while, at the same time, wanting to empty himself inside the elf.

Nothing could have prepared Thorin for what he was sharing with Thranduil.

If he focused hard enough, he could feel every fibre of the elf under him. He could feel the same pleasure and the same need, the affection Thranduil felt for him was even more evident whenever their eyes crossed.

Thorin took his right hand from the waist taking it directly to the leaking cock of the elf, his thrusts were speeding up rocking back and forth while his right hand wrapped around the erection and started stroking it lightly. By then Thorin had rested his forehead on the elf’s chest, his left hand holding onto Thranduil’s waist while his hips kept working on getting them both into complexion. It came suddenly; Thranduil tightened his walls around the hardened length of the dwarf, his hands gripping tightly the firm shoulders of the dwarf while his eyes rolled back. His voice quivered while Thorin’s name escaped those elven lips in a scream of ecstasy.

Thranduil breathed hard emptying himself on his abdomen and the dwarf’s hand. Thorin growled thrusting one last time while coming deep inside the elf who kept his legs firmly placed around Thorin.

“Stay, stay inside please…” Thranduil begged and Thorin moaned feeling his erection stirred while emptying itself inside Thranduil.

They stayed like this for a while, until Thorin was too soft to stay inside Thranduil and the elf seemed to have relaxed himself. Thorin made his way to the elf’s face, they look at each other trembling still in the aftermath of their lovemaking. Thranduil leaned in kissing Thorin tenderly, placing his left hand on the dwarf’s shoulder pushing him until Thorin was on his back and Thranduil had his face firmly placed on the crook of the dwarf’s neck. This time around Thorin embrace the elf, putting him closer to him, wanting nothing else but for Thranduil to stay where he was.

“I do not want this to end.” Thranduil finally whispered. “I’m afraid to go back and realize this has been a dream and my happiness is going to be taken away again.”

“That’s a little foolish.” Thorin replied tilting his head so he could look down on Thranduil. “No one is going to take your happiness away, Thranduil. I won’t allow it.”

Thranduil smiled snuggling closer to the dwarf, feeling sleepy, “I thought you didn’t like sleeping accompanied.”

“I don’t.” Thorin replied whispering softly. “It’s annoying, it gets me too warm and there is never good company to share the bed with.”

“Not even mine?” Thranduil whispered lifting his face to taste Thorin’s lips again, their lips met in a lazy movement of lips, a sweet taste of one another.

When Thranduil broke the kiss he closed his eyes nuzzling Thorin’s neck moving his hand right on top of the dwarf’s chest feeling the beating heart under his hand.

“I thought elves didn’t sleep.” Thorin replied with a half-smile placing his own hand on top of Thranduil’s one. Their breathing was going back to normal; the warm of the morning was embracing them while the quietness of the desert seemed to lull them to sleep.

“We don’t.” Was all he said and just before Thranduil fell asleep he whispered for Thorin’s ears alone. “ _Le melin_.”

Thorin fell asleep minutes after that, his smile was still in placed when the dwarf lost himself in the world of dreams.

 

The second time Thranduil woke up, he got to enjoy the sleeping form of Thorin.

The Elven-Prince opened his eyes blinking sleepily feeling the warm body under his embrace. He took a deep breath catching the natural scent of the dwarf, it was intoxicating and comforting to his own senses. Thranduil enjoyed the blissful moment of happiness he felt in his mind at what had transpired between them, his hand was still firmly placed on the dwarf’s chest the beating heart pumping rhythmically against the ribcage sending small tremors of life right through Thranduil’s sensitive skin.  He shifted his position so his eyes could stare at the sleeping features of the dwarf, there was a peace reflected in the light expression of the usually harsh face. Thranduil felt panic raised in his mind when he thought this was what Thorin would look like dead, he scowled himself for such dark thoughts while his hand travelled to the short beard and mapped out the sharp jaw dancing around until he was caressing those lips.

He felt strange as if he didn’t need to wake Thorin to know the dwarf was resting peacefully, with his arm wrapped protectively around the Elven-Prince assured he had everything he needed at the moment. Thranduil swallowed his fears leaning in to _really_ stare at the dwarf, to see the light of the Eldar gleaming faintly on the dwarf’s skin, but growing in intensity right above his chest. This was nothing a mortal could experience or even perceive with their eyes, it was something meant only for the eyes of the immortals. Thranduil felt his body tingling pleasantly, his inner self purred in pure pleasure at their entwine souls; Thranduil felt his heart speeded up, his eyes opened wide when he understood what they had done the day before, the night before and early in the morning. He could touch their connection, the bond growing in intensity just by laying on the bed. Thranduil knew he had loved Haldir, their relationship had been passionate and tender, it had been filled with love or Legolas would have not been possible. Yet, whatever he was building with Thorin was so much different, so much intense and deeper; it threatened to end his existence if they were to be separated by circumstances or dead.

The question remained: was Thranduil ready for this? Was he really ready to break his promise and give that final step?

Thorin stirred with his arm putting Thranduil closer to him, the Elven-Prince smiled softly placing a tender kiss on the dwarf’s forehead. The elf’s body was still itching pleasantly after having been taken by Thorin; Thranduil untangled himself from Thorin’s embrace only to finally feel the remnants of Thorin’s seed inside him. Thranduil sighed placing another kiss on the dwarf’s forehead before standing up. It had been such a long time since he last allowed someone inside him, Thranduil observed his reflection his eyes wandering around his body to those fading red marks Thorin had left on his skin the night before.  The Elven-Prince pressed curious finger over each and every mark until they ended up on the scar on his abdomen. Last night they had crossed into unknown territory, Thranduil could still feel the seed of Thorin in him and the brief glimpses of a question formed in his mind. The Elven-Prince could felt his inner self stirring pleasantly before the idea of mating and forming a new life inside him; however, it had been more than twenty-five years since a child was born in the Woodland Realm and Thranduil had fathered one, the idea of having create live overnight while joyful, was highly improbable.

The elf’s eyes flickered to the side where he noticed someone had placed fresh clothes, Thranduil smiled faintly before getting dress. He gave Thorin one last glance before welcoming the warm of the sun on his skin. The Elven-Prince strolled down the compound with many curious stares on him, some of them with knowing glints and half-amused smiles. The Elven-Prince rolled his eyes quite aware that, by now, everyone around the Dorwinion Kingdom knew he and Thorin had become one. Thranduil stepped inside the Royal tent feeling his cheeks burn in embarrassment when he found himself the subject of two Royal glances, those eyes gleaming with amusement and curiosity.

“Good morning, Prince Thranduil, I hope you have a pleasant night?” Prince Thúlon commented lightly only to wipe away his smile under the scowling expression of his father.

Thranduil hardened his expression, even though his eyes revealed the happiness he still felt, “It was a nice night, thank you for asking, Prince Thúlon.”

King Erumion examined the elf in front of him with expertise, he knew last night something had shifted between the Princes but to see this strange light coming from Thranduil told the King the bonding they had started a long time ago had been completed the night before. The King was tempted to point this out, to perhaps have some fun while commenting on the obvious love bite Thranduil was wearing on his neck. However, it was his impetuous child the one to speak first, he was clearly enjoying making the other Elven-Prince squirmed.

“You should probably cover that mark on your neck, Prince Thranduil, exposing it to the sun of the desert could be counter-productive.” Thúlon commented lightly not giving in the cold glare from Thranduil.

“Thúlon!”  The young elf grimaced turning to his father who was narrowing his eyes at him.

“I’m sorry, it’s just, you have to admit it was about time, father.” Thúlon replied glancing back at Thranduil. “I’m really glad you and Prince Thorin finally gave in.”

Thranduil hesitated gauging the youngster in front of him, “You are most kind, Prince Thúlon. Though, this is a private matter.”

“It is, yes.” Thúlon conceded. “But, you have to forgive me, Prince Thranduil for this is the first time I have seen such a clear proof of affection before me. _Astalder_ and you came to Dorwinion for a reason and I believe this reason was to find a closure to your past and to welcome what the present and the future brings.”

Thranduil stared at Thúlon for the very first time seeing his own son on the young elf. This is exactly what Legolas would had said to him, the Elven-Prince lifted his right hand and placed it on his chest while bowing his head to Thúlon. The elf smiled faintly returning the gesture with a sense of pride and contentment in him, King Erumion shook his head proud of his son.

“You have spoken with the wisdom of the Eldar, Thúlon.” King Erumion commented gravelly, his eyes went from Thúlon to Thranduil then back to his son.  “Call for our trackers and get everything ready, I believe I have a promise to fulfil to the Princes of the West.”

“Yes, father.” Thúlon left leaving his father along with Thranduil.

King Erumion led Thranduil to a dining table, there was fresh food awaiting them with three spaces meant for both Princes and the King. Thranduil felt a pang of regret at Thorin’s absence, he sat down while the King seemed occupied preparing something on a close by table.

“I believe congratulations are in order.” The King commented lightly while fixing some kind of beverages, Thranduil furrowed his brow but his cheeks show a light tingeing of red. The King turned around to see doubt gleaming behind the blue eyes of Thranduil; however, he could also see happiness and pure love there. Something even with his cold façade Thranduil could not hide.

“I’m glad for you and Prince Thorin.” King Erumion continued approaching Thranduil while offering the Prince a glass with a strange drink.

The Elven-Prince grabbed the drink on his hand as soon as he grabbed it the bittersweet aroma of the drink reached his nostrils and he understood almost immediately what it was. He opened his eyes to stare at the King who was staring at him sympathetically.

“I know it is highly improbable.” King Erumion commented. “You have just bonded, a child it is only produced after the initial bond.”

Thranduil tightened his hold on the glass, his eyes following the King who sat down placing some food on his plate.

“It has been a long time since anyone in my Realm bore a child.” Thranduil spoke tersely.

“I’m sorry to hear it.” King Erumion softened his features. “It wasn’t my intention to insult you or to bring sorrow to you; I want to help.”

Thranduil glanced at the glass then back to the King, “I thought of this as well. If something had happened I believed we would have noticed this already.”

“Indeed, that’s why I’m giving you this.” This time King Erumion smiled and Thranduil was soon reminded of Thúlon’s mischievous smile.  “This is just a precaution if both of you decided to be more adventurous on the desert.”

Thranduil rolled his eyes making a face while he drank the beverage in one single drink. The Elven-Prince made a face the bitter taste of the drink scratching at his tongue and throat. Erumion leaned in pouring some juice on another cup passing it to the Prince who drank it gratefully.

“You really love him.” It was a statement, King Erumion observed with care as those blue eyes gleamed tenderly.

“I do.” Thranduil put some food on his plate still tasting the bittersweet drink on his mouth.

“And he loves you as well.” Erumion stated again, the King took a bite from his bread furrowing his brows. “Have you spoken to him about everything? About you and the Eldar?”

The Elven-Prince distracted himself with some fruit and cheese; he tasted the food while musing over these questions.

“No, a lot has not been said.” Thranduil sighed feeling the weight of reality falling on his shoulders once more. “There has not been time, we have been trusted into strange situations that have made us react instead of talk.”

King Erumion nodded in understanding, “I do not want to intrude more than I have to, I just…I believe I understand.”

Thranduil lifted his eyes to the King, those dark eyes gleamed with a strange emotion with an untold tale. It brought sorrow to the King, but it also brought kindness, when King Erumion turned to Thranduil he was solemn.

“My heart tells me there will come a time when you and Prince Thorin would enjoy the wonders of parenthood.” Thranduil tensed under this declaration, he felt his body trembled and his mind prod in anticipation. The King furrowed his brows then, worry marking every feature of the fair façade.

“However, there are dark times ahead of us. My trackers had come back with eerie news I wish to discuss with you and Prince Thorin when he has woken up, of course.” This last part was said teasingly, still the worry remained.

“There has been a darkness lurking at my heart for quite some time,” Thranduil mentioned. “Something is stirring in the world, hidden away ready to act.”

“This is why Thúlon is right in his words; you were brought here to make the both of you stronger and to ready yourselves for what it is to come.” The King spoke firmly with conviction in his words.

Thranduil could see the truth behind this, he could understand what they had been brought here and, while it was confusing and scary, Thranduil was now more ready than ever to face the dangers of the world. His mind went immediately to Thorin, affection and tranquillity filled his soul and his lips curled up in a smile. The world of outside was catching up to them, Thranduil sighed taking another sip from the glass filled with juice before turning to the King.

 “King Erumion, you told me the trackers were back with bad news, can you tell me what happen?”

“Of course, I’ll brief you before you can go to Prince Thorin and I can tell you everything.”

*****

He felt someone calling out to him.

A heavy stare on his body stirring some strange emotions deep inside him; Thorin opened his eyes to the daylight sneaking inside his tent. His body aching comfortably while he tried to scare away the sleep from his mind and eyes, his mind was in a complete state of bliss while his body shivered happily.  Thorin smiled, while he could not see him, he knew Thranduil was right in the tent with him, he knew it was those clear blue eyes staring intently at his naked back. His smile transformed into a smug smirk when he heard the voice of the Elven-Prince heavy with desire in it.

“You are a lazy one, Prince Thorin.” Thranduil spoke with a hint of teasing in his voice; Thorin snorted turning his head to see Thranduil sitting down on a chair, legs crossed and his good cheek resting on his right hand.

“I’m not lazy; I just share a bed with a demanding partner.” Thorin replied wryly, voice raspy and still filled with sleep.

Thranduil quirked a brow but his blue eyes gleamed with emotion, “Are you sure it has nothing to do with you being lazy? I have a demanding partner as well but I was awake before breakfast was served.”

“I thought elves don’t sleep, so that doesn’t count.” Thorin replied sitting up, he knew he was completely naked and his body was just enjoying the attention Thranduil was giving to it.

Thranduil remained sit but his eyes were glancing appreciatively at the dwarf, he felt his breathing quickened and his fingers twitching anxiously. Thorin smirked satisfied arching a brow to the elf who had to look away so as to hide away the desire pooling up in those blue eyes. The Dwarven-Prince had never seen this playful side of the Elven-Prince before, Thorin had come accustomed to the cold nature of the elf; to his detach personality and his witty comments. Thorin had fallen in love with those glimpses of real happiness he only reserved for his younger brother, Legolas, or those moments in which his cold façade would break and show an ancient male wanting nothing else than hold onto those few moments of happiness he was given. Thorin didn’t know when it happened, but he discovered a playful nature behind the cold façade, he experienced a tender side when they were alone; this was something the Dwarven-Prince never thought possible between a dwarf and an elf.

“You should get dress.” Thranduil finally said squirming under the intense stare coming from the dwarf, Thorin chuckled wriggling his eyebrows at the elf.

“Why should I? I’m enjoying your reaction right now.” Thorin replied teasingly, Thranduil tilted his head glaring at the dwarf.

“Breakfast is waiting for you at the King’s tent. The trackers arrived today and they had brought news.” Thranduil revealed observing the sudden change in the dwarf.

Thorin furrowed his brows remembering for the first time this was not a holiday or a trip made for personal pleasure. This was actually a mission to find out what had happened to Dáin just before they had to go back to Erebor and face the Greenstone Clan. Reality was catching up with them, Thorin sighed placing the soft sheets on top of his lap.

“I thought we have more time.” Thorin mumbled voicing what Thranduil had been thinking ever since he woke up.

The Elven-Prince stood up making his way to the bed while sitting beside Thorin, this would be so much different if the dwarf had been dressed and Thranduil wasn’t wearing a huge red mark on his neck. Thorin lifted his eyes to observe the mark with care, his lips curling proudly for a moment before concern flash on his features. He lifted his hand to touch the mark, furrowing his brows with his eyes flickering from the mark to Thranduil.

“I hurt you.” Thorin stated.

“You marked me.” Thranduil corrected smiling coyly; he leaned into the touch placing his hand on the dwarf’s knee. “I quite like it, to be honest.”

Thorin blushed lightly clearing his throat, “I think we should talk.”

Thranduil nodded curtly, “I know.”

Thorin opened his mouth only to close it again; this time around the Dwarven-Prince could make out the sounds of muffled conversation right outside the tent. He caught the scent that was pure Thranduil filling his nostrils, while his fingertips perceived the strange warmness coming from elven skin. It was the same sensation he felt last night and early in the morning while touching Thranduil, he guided his fingers through the mark brushing the skin in teasing patterns. Desire built up at the bottom of his stomach, his muscles clenching in anticipation. He didn’t need to look at Thranduil to know the Elven-Prince was thinking the same, to know Thranduil was responding to his actions.

“You insinuate I was an inexperienced kisser.” Thorin began glad his voice didn’t falter as he spoke, Thranduil opened his mouth to explain but Thorin shook his head staring at him. “You were right. I have never kissed anyone in my life before you.”

Thranduil furrowed his brows, “It doesn’t matter…”

“It does because you do not understand.” Thorin said smiling lightly. “I had lain with females and males in the past, but I have never kissed them. For Dwarves the act of kissing is more intimate than the actual sexual act.”

Thranduil felt his eyes widen in shock at the news, Thorin chuckled making a face.

“It is quite surprising, I know. But if you have noticed the main shows of affection in Erebor are hugs or hands intertwined, you can hardly see anyone kissing.” Thorin watched while Thranduil’s expression changed as he was made aware of this.

Thorin cleared his throat with his fingers dancing around the uncovered skin of the elf, he was trying to explain to Thranduil what happened last night meant something to him. Thorin wanted to make sure this was not a game, or something that would disappear with time; the Dwarven-Prince needed for Thranduil to understand what he was feeling was pretty much real.

“What I did last night or in Erebor was me trying to tell you that I…” Thorin caught his breath, his eyes widening before they closed again welcoming the softness that was Thranduil’s lips.

Thranduil didn’t know what overcome him, he only knew they needed this moment. They needed to know this moment was far more than a simple adventure in a stranger’s land or a result of biological needs.  And Thranduil reassured Thorin through the softness of his lips, opening the link between them to find comfort in the dwarf’s soul while trying to offer comfort with his own. The kiss ended with both of them breathing fast, their foreheads joined while Thranduil had his hands firmly placed on the dwarf’s neck.

“I wish I can give myself to you again, my body demands to feel you taking me the way you did this morning.” Thranduil dropped his voice to an entrancing whisper his hands playing with the strands of dark hair while his lips teased those full lips.

Thorin bit the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from moaning in response, his hands twitched wanting nothing else than to grab the elf and work on making those words a reality. However, before he could do or say anything in response, Thranduil stepped back his lips curling up amusedly and his eyes gleaming mischievously.

“You should get dress, Prince Thorin, and take care of any _inconvenience_ before you meet with King Erumion.” Thranduil said in the same deep, husky tone as before. Thorin shivered when those eyes travelled up and down his body. “Don’t take too long, _Meleth-nîn.”_

Thorin watched with his face growing in horror as Thranduil left him there, mouth hanging open and desire dripping from his every pore. Thorin blinked a couple of times, his cheeks burning in lust and embarrassment, he looked down at himself then back at the opening of the tent. He growled swearing to make Thranduil pay his teasing as soon as the right time presented itself. For now he needed to take care of himself and get ready before meeting the King for breakfast.

*****

Thorin exited the tent wearing deep blue clothing with hints of silver and black, his pants were loose and he wore a long shirt with long sleeves. He was still looking at himself and the strange clothing when he came face to face with Thranduil, he lifted his face narrowing his eyes at the smiling elf noticing for the first time the Elven-Prince was wearing matching clothes styles only his were green and gold.

“I’m starting to find your strange behaviour eerie, have you come to unsettle me again, Prince Thranduil?” Thorin observed with care the elf in front of him, Thranduil softened his expression until he was staring slyly at the dwarf in front of him.

“Whatever you mean by this, Prince Thorin? Do tell me, what I did to unsettle you so I won’t repeat it again.” Thranduil replied with fake innocence, his eyes gleaming in silent laughter. Thorin snorted shaking his head, he was wary but at the same time pretty interested in this side of Thranduil.

A part of Thorin, the more sensible one, told him they needed to speak about what happened the day before and early in the morning between them. There were so many questions that need answering, yet Thorin could not help but to postpone this conversation, right now he just wanted to enjoy Thranduil the way he was. Free, happy and untroubled.

“I never say you should stop it, I just thought it should be done when there is time for me to make you pay such insolence.” Thorin smirked crossing his arms satisfied when Thranduil laughed, his eyes twinkling mischievously before he leaned in, his lips brushing the dwarf’s earlobe.

“It wouldn’t be called insolence if I were to do it at an appropriated time, would it?”

Thorin swallowed narrowing his eyes at the elf, Thranduil softened leaning in to caress his lips against Thorin’s. This came as a surprised, Thorin had never expected for Thranduil to be so affectionate and yet, here he was, kissing him with as much affection as he could muster with a bunch of elves watching them with curiosity and interested.

“Uh, good morning…” Thúlon chimed in looking awkwardly at the Princes he stood there glancing from Thranduil to Thorin shifting from one foot to the other.

“Good morning, Prince Thúlon.” Thorin replied stepping away from Thranduil, the Elven-Prince straightened up but didn’t move from his closeness to the dwarf.

“King Erumion is waiting for the both of you, there is also food for you Prince Thorin, I bet you must be hungry.” The last bit was said with a half-smile, Thorin felt his cheeks burnt he nodded briefly following the young Prince all the way to the Royal tent.

The table of the King was different this time around, Thranduil had already have something to eat thus it was only Thorin the one enjoying the freshness of fruit and tea and bread while the King spoke with two elves of dark complexion and short hair. Their clothes dissolved in different shades of yellow and brown, tightly pressed against their bodies with curved swords hanging at their sides and long bows on their backs. They were speaking in elvish, though by the face Thranduil was making Thorin guessed it was not a form of elvish the Elven-Prince was familiar with. Thorin drank some of his tea, furrowing his brows restless and aware they were about to go back to the real world. Thorin turned to see Thranduil staring off into the distance, his face a complete mask of indifference but his eyes gleaming in a familiar nostalgic light.

“ _Astalder,_ Prince Thranduil,” Thúlon approached them with new clothes adorning his body, he wore the same shade of yellow of the sand, but his clothes were loose with only hints of red around the collarbone of the shirt. Behind him came two elves carrying two swords and an axe.

“My axe! I thought I lost it.” Thorin explained placing the cup of tea on the table and making his way to the elf holding his axe. The weapon had been cleaned and sharpened; Thorin grabbed it feeling the familiar weight of his weapon resting comfortably on his hand.

“We recovered your weapons after we rescued you.” Thúlon explained smiling at the excitement in the dwarf’s bearing. “We cleaned them up and sharpened them, even though the elvish blade Prince Thranduil carried with him didn’t need this.”

Thranduil grabbed the hilt of his sword, his hand clenching tightly while he put the weapon out of the sheath. He observed the writing on the blade and flashes of his youth in Doriath came to mind, he nodded gracefully at the elf carrying his sword before he sheathed it again. The Elven-Prince turned to Thorin only to see the dwarf ready to go; his axe was firmly placed on his left while his sword was on his right. Thranduil smiled placing his sword on his left, Thúlon signalled with his hand to another elf who came by carrying a long bow and a quiver filled with arrows.

“We didn’t know if you have one before the wrecking of your ship, the King thought though you may appreciate this gift.” Thúlon explained while offering the long bow to Thranduil.

The Elven-Prince grabbed the long range weapon with admiration, his eyes opening appreciatively examining the hard wood and the high-quality of the bowstring.  He weighted the weapon while tensing the arch, his lips drawn in a familiar smirk while his muscles tensed comfortably with the position.

“It is a magnificent work, Prince Thúlon, I thank you for this.” Thranduil bowed with a hand placed on his chest.

Thranduil fastened the straps of the quiver around his chest making sure the arrows were at the right distance for his hand to grab them swiftly.  Thorn chuckled quirking a brow while glancing appreciatively at the elf, Thranduil locked his eyes with him offering a half-smile.

“I think we’re ready.” Thorin said with only a hint of sadness tingeing his voice.

Thranduil nodded curtly his lips quivered wanting to say something but there was only silence, even now there were so many things that need to be said.  There was no time, reality was catching up with them and there was nothing they could do to evade it. Their responsibilities were starting to weight on their shoulders again; Thranduil knew this more than anybody else, he leaned forward allowing the right palm of his hand a soft caress against the beard of Thorin. The dwarf smiled nodding briefly.

“We will talk. Later. I promise you.”

“I know.” Thranduil replied.

Both Princes then turned around to see Thúlon glancing everywhere but at them allowing the private moment. Soon the King joined them along with the two elves he had been talking to, both elves had clear eyes and dark skin, their short hair was a novelty, something that caught Thranduil and Thorin by surprised.

“My Lords, allowed me to present you with our best trackers in the desert of Rhûn: Almaner and Ecyon.” The King presented them with seriousness while both elves bowed deeply to the Princes. “They had brought some news regarding Lord Dáin and his whereabouts.”

Thorin changed his posture almost immediately, Thranduil stepped back to observe Thorin take charge of the situation. His broad shoulder tensing lightly while his right hand placed itself around the hilt of his sword, the Dwarven-Prince heard everything with the wearing of his people: firm and unmoving while concern flashed in his dark eyes.

“We didn’t find anything on the usual route the Naugrim take to the mines.” Almaner spoke in a deep voice; he had a thick accent tasting every word that left his mouth. “Then we found bodies.”

“Orcs.” Ecyon intervened before Thorin could say anything. “Lots of them, there were no Naugrim, but there were some clothes and blood.”

“The dwarves usually stopped in two oasis that are almost five hours away from this camp.” King Erumion explained. “After that they take another route to reach the mines. Danger obviously reached them by the time they reached the second oasis, which means trouble was already waiting for them by the time they reached the mines.”

“Or before.” Almaner commented furrowing his brows. “We met with some orcs along with some sand-worms. But we think these were only escorts.”

Ecyon nodded curtly, “We send word to the _nanda_ to see if they can help Lord Dáin and be ready for our arrival.”

Thranduil was experiencing the concern going through Thorin’s mind; he didn’t need to turn to the dwarf to know there was only seriousness adorned by a well-known frown. Without even thinking about it, Thranduil placed his hands on top of Thorin’s shoulders, he squeezed lightly feeling Thorin relaxing under his touch. The King’s eyes flashed briefly to the both of them but his expression was soon concealed under polite interested. 

“How long until we can reach the mines?” Thorin finally asked the elves stared at one another for a brief moment before answering.

“If we are to part right now we will be there by the time the moon is lighting up our path.” Almaner replied.

“King Erumion, you have been most kind with me and Prince Thranduil, you have tended to us and we are grateful.” Thorin started talking gravely, the King nodded gracefully to him with understanding gleaming in his eyes.

“I do not believe our paths crossed by mere chance, Prince Thorin.” King Erumion commented, “You have come here with a purpose and it remains to be seen if this purpose has already been accomplished or if there is something else behind your unexpected visit to our Kingdom.”

Here Thorin tensed alongside Thranduil, suddenly both Princes felt they were the subject of the cunning stare of the King. The Elven-King waved his hand and soon they were left alone with the King, Thorin and Thranduil soon found themselves side by side with the King’s hand in each of their shoulders.  Thorin was just a beginner to the world of the elves, he knew the basics and whatever was necessary to deal with them in battle or in diplomacy. It hadn’t been until he was engaged with Thranduil that he dared to know even more, as timed passed by he had come to understand they were a magical, dangerous and rather mysterious race. Their magic would work in different ways always confusing, always unexpected; much like he felt at the moment, when his body was filled with a warm sensation and he soon was made aware of Thranduil as if the Elven-Prince was just another extension of his mind and body.

The Elven-King lifted his dark eyes staring directly into Thranduil’s blue ones before he flickered them down to Thorin.

“I do not know how much you know about elves, Prince Thorin. I do not pretend to know everything about our brothers of the West.” Erumion continued. “However, allow me this piece of advice.”

For a brief moment Thorin could sense the discomfort coming from Thranduil, the Dwarven-Prince shifted so he could be closer to Thranduil while the King spoke directly to him.

“Please, whatever advice you may provide would be greatly appreciated.” Thorin commented careful with his words, yet he tried for this to be a light comment. “I believe dealing with someone such as Prince Thranduil would be a whole new set of troublesome adventures.”

Thorin chuckled while Thranduil rolled his eyes, the atmosphere seemed a little less tense and Thorin felt accomplish when he realized Thranduil was more relaxed now. King Erumion smiled softly observing the growing affection between the both of them, feeling the bond between the Princes forging and straightening as time passed by.

“In our world, Prince Thorin, being bonded means we love with all our hearts, all our soul and all our mind.” King Erumion said seriously, Thranduil looked away only to find comfort in the warm hand of Thorin. He turned around to see Thorin staring directly at the King while grasping Thranduil’s hand firmly.

“You should know something as well, then, King Erumion.” Thorin replied lifting his chin and staring at the King. “We dwarves only love once, after that there is nothing else.”

Thranduil swallowed with his heart fluttering funnily in his chest, he felt a tingling sensation traveling up his arm all through his body ending with a herd of butterflies on his stomach. It was such a youthful sensation, something he hadn’t felt in such a long time; Thranduil didn’t even notice the huge grin forming on his lips.  The King tilted his head narrowing his eyes at the dwarf, then he relaxed placing his right hand on his chest.

“I’m glad to hear it because it had been centuries since I last see so much love between two individuals so different yet so alike.” King Erumion glanced at both Princes before signalling the entrance of his tent. “Now, let’s go, like I promise you Prince Thorin, I have everything ready for your departure.”

“I wish I have something on me to thank you with; however, as soon as I reach Erebor I would thank you properly.”

“There is no need for this, Prince Thorin. I declare you a friend of the Avari and the people of Dorwinion.” King Erumion proclaimed while they were making their way to the East side of the compound.  “Friends do not need payment for a favour; you don’t need to worry about it, Prince Thorin.”

“I don’t think that’s fair, we did eat your food and drinks.” Thorin replied refusing to accept such gesture without giving something in return. He felt he owned this place more than King Erumion could comprehend at the moment.  “And now you are assisting me in trying to reach my cousin.”

“Do not trouble yourself with this, Prince Thorin.” King Erumion led them down another couple of tents they hadn’t seen so far, many of the elves around this place were the same warriors Thorin and Thranduil had met the day before.

With a final turn, Thorin found himself in front of an even zone where there was some grass and the trees provided with fresh shades for the elves to rest and protect themselves from the sun. There was a huge fence around the place and Thorin noticed there were animals there, some horses along with some goats but what really caught Thorin’s attention were the strange animals with yellow fur and huge humps on their backs, long legs with odd toes and an odd form. It was no horse yet, it had on his hump a strange saddle made of different colours with some saddle bags at each side of the creature.  Thorin approached the fence admiring the animals with some wariness in his eyes, they were huge and dread filled his mind when he thought they might be riding one of these beasts to the desert. They got closer and the elves gave way to their King and their guests.

“What are these?” Thorin finally asked the King chuckled approaching the shortest one; his hand went directly to the muzzle of the creature caressing lightly the soft fur.

“They are _ulumpë_.” The King said enjoying the astonished stares of both Princes.

Thranduil hesitated before getting closer as well; he sensed the gentleness from the creature smiling lightly when he too decided to caress the animal.

“In the common tongue it would be _camel_.” The King tasted the word unsure if this was the right term, he was quite delighted though when Thranduil seemed rather charmed by the creature.

“Come here, Thorin, you should feel this.” Thranduil prod but Thorin only took a step back eyeing the creature with uncertainty.

“I don’t know it looks bigger than a horse, more dangerous.” Thorin glared at Thranduil who could only laugh while rolling his eyes.

“Don’t be ridiculous, come here.” Thranduil said again, Thorin crossed his arms shaking his head.

“I’m good, thank you.”

“I hope you are not wary of them, _Astalder.”_ Thúlon approached them with all seriousness. “These noble creatures will be carrying us deep into the desert.”

“What? Why?” Thorin said suddenly horrified.

“They were born in the desert; they can resist great distances under the burning sun.” Thúlon commented while passing a dark bowl filled with a white lotion in it. Thorin grabbed the bowl furrowing his brows in wonderment while catching the sweet aroma coming from the lotion.

“What is this?”

“It is a special ointment to protect your skin from the sun.” King Erumion explained. “You will be under the burning sun of the desert and your skin would be exposed to it. This will lessen the sunburns and will keep you fresh while you go deep into the desert.”

“Thank you, I really don’t know how we can thank you for all you are doing for us, King Erumion.” This time it was Thranduil the one who spoke, he started applying some of the ointment on his skin.

“You can always invite us to your official wedding.” Thúlon proposed timidly.

“Thúlon!” King Erumion chided his son, but Thorin merely laughed.

Thranduil rolled his eyes because it was obvious Thorin was quite charmed by the elfling from the very beginning and all it took was for this comment to be made for the dwarf to actually extend an invitation.

“No, please, I think that’s an excellent idea.” Thorin said glancing at Thranduil out of the corner of his eyes. “If my fiancée is agreeable to the idea of course, and if he still wants to marry me you are invite.”

Thranduil stopped what he was doing, he lifted his eyes and found himself staring deep into Thorin’s ones. Thorin shifted a little offering the Elven-Prince a half-smile hidden behind his beard, Thranduil took a deep breath his hair falling on his face.

“Do you really have to ask?” Thranduil questioned softening his features; he lowered himself a little with his lips quivering slightly. “Would you mind helping me with this?”

Thorin nodded briefly grabbing the bowl while the world suddenly stopped existing; King Erumion turned to Thúlon who was watching him with a sympathetic smile.  The King lead his son away from the Princes, he glanced around the group of elves getting ready to accompany the Princes.

“Everything is ready, Ada.” Prince Thúlon stood beside his father gauging the King’s expression. “Are you doing well?”

King Erumion smiled faintly placing his hand on his son’s shoulder, “Everything is all right, I want you to watch after them and to be careful.”

“I will, Ada.” Thúlon furrowed his brow again narrowing his eyes at his father. “You are worried, but not about me going out into the desert or even Adar, what is it?”

“You are growing too smart for my own good.” The King commented lightly, his face took on a more serious semblance. “I am concern about the news of orcs, wargs and sand-worms going around the desert without us knowing it. I am also worried about the news the Princes brought with them, I have decided to stay a little longer and wait to see what the wind from the west brings to our camp.”

Thúlon turned to see Thranduil laughing at Thorin who seemed rather uncomfortable with the camel moving closer to him. A light push from Thranduil put Thorin closer to the animal who dipped his head messing with the dwarf’s hair, Thorin stepped back bumping against Thranduil who pushed him back. Thorin turned around and soon both Princes seemed very much engaged in a childish discussion.

“They reminded me of me and your father.” King Erumion said smiling softly, he turned to his son who was glancing at the scene sceptical.

“They seem to be fighting.” Thúlon commented.

“Trust me, that’s just foreplay.” Erumion laughed when his son made a face shaking his head.

“I didn’t need to know that, Ada.” Thúlon sighed trying not to think about what his father just told him. He then softened a little bumping playfully against his father. “Do you want me to tell him something?”

Erumion smiled, “That I will miss the both of you.”

Thúlon bowed lightly to his father before one of the elves came to them informing them everything was ready for their departure.  

*****

The desert was an unmerciful god.

The wind turned dry, biting their skin with the sun burning with intensity of the fires of the forges under the mountain. There was nothing but the dunes forming strange hills alongside the road, they could not see beyond this forms of sand, the landscape was empty of any form of life and soon the silence of the earth was only interrupted by the scraping of even-toes on the sand. Thorin flickered his tongue out, licking his lips while these grew parched; the dwarf felt someone shifting behind him, a firm arm circling his waist bringing a sort of comfort to his heating body.

“Are you all right?” Thranduil leaned forward, his lips caressing the shell of a red ear, his voice felt like a clearing of fresh water to the dwarf who nodded briefly.

Thorin felt the sneaky hand of the elf tangling with his finger, the firmness of his chest pressed against his. The Dwarven-Prince scowled not for the first time after having put on a fight when he was told he needed to ride accompanied. Thranduil had laughed teasing Thorin before telling him he would behave so the dwarf would not feel unsettled; now Thorin sat on the beast with Thranduil pressing his body against his unsettling him completely.

“I’m starting to think it would be highly beneficial for me to throw you off of the beast.” Thorin commented tilting his head, Thranduil smirked making sure his mouth was closer to the dwarf’s ear.

“Why, Master Dwarf, am I unsettling you?” Thranduil chuckled when Thorin almost jerked away from the mount.

“Stop that.” Thorin growled but Thranduil merely laughed leaning back to his old position without letting go of their joined hands.

“You are far too easy to tease, Thorin. You can’t blame me.”

“I’m starting to miss the times in which you could barely touch me and pretend to be this cold, ethereal figure in the mountain.” Thorin grumbled fixing his posture looking back at Thranduil.

The Elven-Prince lifted a brow with his lips forming a perfect smile showing his white teeth and deep dimples. Thorin snorted shaking his head knowing he was smiling back.

“You really miss that?” Thranduil finale questioned, Thorin turned to look ahead of them where the rest of the elven company was quite preoccupied with riding than their conversation.

The Dwarven-Prince thought about his answer, he didn’t miss it that much. Right now, Thranduil was showing such a different aspect of himself; he was acting more playful, carefree and happy and Thorin warmed up knowing he was part of this change. There were brief moments in which Thorin would wonder if this was what Thranduil had been in his younger days or maybe whenever he was with his former lover, Haldir.  However, a familiar voice in his mind told him this was a part of Thranduil the Elven-Prince had been told to suppress from an early age; Thorin grabbed the elven hand in his finding it curious how big, yet how delicate it was. Whereas Thorin was hot, Thranduil was cold.

“I like to think this is you just being annoying.” Thorin finally replied with a teasing tone, Thranduil smiled softly feeling his body shivered by the sheer warm Thorin was sharing with him. “But no, I do not miss those days, I…I like you better this way.”

Thranduil smiled satisfied with the answer, his hands squeezed Thorin’s one lightly only for the Dwarven-Prince to actually notice Thranduil was slightly cold.

“Why are you cold? This place is like being inside the forges of Erebor.”

“I just need to be closer to you.” Thranduil replied looking away with a frown marking his forehead, Thorin pursed his lips not really understanding such a declaration. “Besides, my hands have always been cold.”

“We are pretty close right now; if I were to be as close to you as I want to, we might have a problem. It wouldn’t be appropriate, actually.” Thorin replied in a non-sense tone, Thranduil rolled his eyes glaring lightly at the dwarf.

“Exactly. That’s how close I want to be with you.” Thranduil replied snorting.

Thorin looked rather disgruntled at first until his eyes open in understanding, his cheek turning a deeper shade of red.

“Oh.”

“Such eloquence, Prince Thorin.” Thranduil commented dryly. “But yes, ‘oh’ would be a perfect way to describe my predicament.”

“You elves are really weird lot.” Thorin observed glancing back at the elf.

“We simply are made differently than the other races.” Thranduil looked around him with the rest of the company riding in silence. Only the two of them seemed engage in any kind of conversation, Thorin grabbed the elf’s hand in his with a sudden thought stirring in his mind.  However, whatever worries this thought might bring, Thorin soon shut him up decided to enjoy this glimpses of solitude between them. The Dwarven-Prince titled his head squeezing the elf’s hand in his.

“So, do you want me to warm you up?” Thorin finally asked wriggling his eyebrows; Thranduil looked taken aback for a moment before he started laughing and the unexpected comment.

Thúlon turned around to see Thranduil laughing freely breaking the silence of the desert, the young elf smile shaking his head before going back to look ahead the road.

Silence fell amongst the travellers once more; Thorin licked his lips feeling the burning sun on his head with drops of sweat rolling down his neck and face. The heat would be almost unbearable if it wasn’t for the clothes he was wearing at the moment; the Dwarven-Prince lifted his eyes to the clear blue glass of the sky without a single cloud in sight. The wind was almost non-existent while the dunes seemed to be teasing the eyes of the dwarf, always taking the same form making him think they hadn’t advanced one bit.

“Drink this.” The voice startled him, Thorin jerked awake of his distraction suddenly remembering he was riding a huge animal with the Elven-Prince of Mirkwood firmly placed behind him.

Thranduil was frowning concern looking down on Thorin while he held a waterskin so the dwarf could drink from it. The freshness of the liquid brought new energies to the dwarf, Thorin soon shook his head drinking some more while feeling those fingers of the elf caressing his features.

“Are you well?” Thranduil inquired to which Thorin merely nodded.

“Yes, thank you.”

“You shouldn’t stop drinking from the waterskin, _Astalder.”_ Thúlon had turned his camel to ride alongside the Princes, he too was wearing a concern expression with his dark eyes moving from the dwarf to the elf. “You should drink as well, Prince Thranduil. For people who are not used to the desert drinking occasionally could be the difference between heatstroke and being conscious.”

Thorin nodded politely to the elf, “Thank you for the advice, I won’t forget again.”

“See that you won’t, _Astalder._ ” The elf put from his pocket a small wooden box, he leaned in to let Thorin grabbed it from his hand.

“What is this?”

“It’s the same ointment we handed you back in Dorwinion. You should apply some more on your skin, it would be refreshing.”

Thorin opened the box trying to balance it above the saddle while he ran his eyes through the landscape. The Dwarven-Prince applied the ointment, his lips parting to let out a sigh of relief, he then turned to Thranduil offering the box.

“I was meant to ask you,” Thorin began looking around them again, Thranduil was applying some of the ointment on his own skin before taking another sip of water from the waterskin. “Are you sure we’re not walking in circles? I’m pretty sure that’s the same dune we passed like four hours ago.”

Thúlon chuckled glancing at the dune then back at Thorin, “We’ve been on the road for three hours, _Astalder_ , and that’s not the same dune, this one has vertical wave patterns and the yellow of its sand is far lighter than the ones near Dorwinion.”

Thorin blinked a couple of times before shaking his head, “They look the same to me. How can you be so sure?”

Thúlon leaned back tilting his head, his eyes crossed with those of Thranduil who suddenly seemed pretty amused by the question of the dwarf.  Some of the elves riding nearby all turned to Thorin wearing the same disconcerting stare as Thúlon; however, the one to answer Thorin was Almaner who had been sent as a Captain of the company or warriors.

“Does the stone under the mountain resemble the stone from the river?” The elf spoke loudly without turning his head, Thorin quirked his brows as if the answer was quite obvious.

“No, of course not.” Thorin replied.

“Then, are all the gems you find deep inside the mountain the same as the ones forge on the surface of the earth?” The elf asked again, Thorin leaned back shaking his head.

“No, they are different.”

Almaner turned his head to look at the Prince above his shoulder; the elf was looking quite serious while his clear eyes were reflecting the light of the sun above their heads.

“How can you tell they are different? To me they look the same.”

Thorin watched the elf for a long time understanding gleaming in his eyes, he snorted bowing his head respectfully while glancing around again.

“This is how you find your way in the desert? By knowing the dunes?”

“Exactly, we’ve been here for centuries, even before the Naugrim of Khand came to be.” Almaner continued. “We have memorized the shape of dunes and the colour of the sand, we have learnt to look at the sky and read the signs above our heads. Much like you and your people has done to survive under the mountain.”

“Is it the same for you?” This time the question was directed to Thranduil, the Elven-Prince nodded briefly.

“It is. The forest of Mirkwood is certainly different to other forests. Its trees and the leaves, even the smell of it is quite different that say Lothlórien or even the Long Forest.”

“Don’t worry, _Astalder_. This is the safest path, and the quickest.” Thúlon explained pointing with his hand to the farthest dune in the distance, “The Captain and the King decided we have enough provisions and water to cross the desert right through the second _nanda_ that is half an hour away crossing that hill over there; there we will rest before continuing our way to the golden path of the Naugrim.”

The Dwarven-Prince thanked Thúlon while asking some more questions about the desert and the different paths leading to the oasis. While conversation took place, Thorin couldn’t help but feel anxious as they got closer to Dáin. He knew it had been a long time since the Dwarf disappeared and the probabilities of Dáin being alive were minimal and yet, there was a glimpse of hope in him.  Thorin distracted his thoughts by engaging the Dorwinion elves in conversations while Thranduil seemed pretty attentive of him with the sun still burning in the sky.

 

Thorin soon realized crossing the dunes put him and the others at the mercy of a vast, plain of sand with nothing but empty space between them. The Dwarven-Prince observed how with a simply gesture of his hand Prince Thúlon and Captain Almaner indicated to the rest of the elves to be ready for any surprise. Thorin tried to see beyond the sea of sand before him, but all he could get was a glassy landscape where the sun and the heat dominate most of the area.

The Dwarven-Prince got a lot of time to muse over what was happening and how much his situation had changed. Thranduil was right behind him always attentive to make sure he drank water and was protected from the sun, the both of them had already form a strange companionship and the dwarf couldn’t help but feel highly emotional because of this. He knew what he felt for Thranduil was something he promised to never allow himself to feel. But the elf made it so difficult, Thorin smiled at their dance, their conversations that usually turned into discussions. The Dwarven-Prince chuckled wondering what would everyone said once they got back to Erebor, he knew the wages regarding them sleeping together were quite high and he was just waiting to see who were the winners that got it right.

The sun moved above their heads, traveling slowly towards the edge of the world while the sky turned a darker shade of blue announcing the beginning of the afternoon hours. Thranduil drank some more water; his lips parting gratefully when he felt the freshness of the liquid touched his dry tongue. He narrowed his eyes, at first he thought it was just another illusion the desert played on him. However, as he placed a hand above his forehead to shade his eyes from the sun he realized what he was seeing was not a vision but something real.

“There is someone ahead of us.” He commented turning to Thúlon who wore a serious expression.

The young Prince placed his hand on his sword, the elves grabbed the reins of their camels forming them in a battle position with Thorin and Thranduil at the back. Thorin shifted leaning forward to try and see what everyone else seemed to be observing, his eyes couldn’t get anything clear, though. The Dwarven-Prince grabbed the hilt of his axe sensing the sudden stirring of the elf behind him, he didn’t need to turn to know Thranduil had grabbed his bow and was getting ready.

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t think I can fight on this beast.” Thorin commented glancing at Thranduil out of the corner of his eyes.

“Good try, Prince Thorin, nevertheless I won’t let you down of our ride until I’m pretty sure you won’t be swallowed by the sand.” Thranduil replied with a half-smirk adorning his features.

“What a funny Prince you turned out to be, Prince Thranduil.” Thorin remarked sarcastically.

“I have my moments.” Thranduil removed his hand from the safe holding of the dwarf. “But you don’t have to worry yourself, Thorin. If there is a fight, you will find a way to fight our attackers.”

“Like throwing you off this beast before jumping off to join the fight?” Thorin questioned innocently.

Thranduil rolled his eyes looking down to the dwarf, “I want to see you try.”

“You know, I’m starting to think you just like feeling my ass on…” Thorin didn’t get to finish his sentence for Thranduil placed a hand on his mouth, the Elven-Prince looked quite scandalized while Thúlon and other elf riding beside them let out a laugh that turned into a fake cough when Thranduil turned to glare at them.

“Seriously?” Thranduil took his hand away when the dwarf licked it, he made a face cleaning his hand on Thorin’s clothes.

“My, what happen, Prince Thranduil?” Thorin said mockingly. “Did I unsettle you?”

Thranduil narrowed his eyes at the Prince, “I hate you.”

Thorin quirked his lips, chuckling lightly, “Yeah, well, I hate you more.”

Thranduil shook his head swallowing his answer, before he could start thinking over what they said Thorin grabbed his free hand squeezing it lightly. Thorin took a relaxing breath and, without really being conscious, let the link between them soothe any worries Thranduil may harbour.

Soon, the attention of everyone was turned back to the figures they could observe in the distance. Thúlon hurried his camel lifting his sword in the air reflecting the light of the sun. He did this a couple of times, everyone around them waited until there was a light coming from the figures.

“They’re answering.” Thúlon sighed in relief. “Come on, they’re warriors of the sand, our people. Let’s join them.”

Thranduil would have laugh at Thorin’s yelp when the camel started running through the sand, if it wasn’t for the fact he was too quite taken aback by how fast these creatures could run. In less than fifteen minutes they caught up with the strangers, two elves with their faces covered by strange scarves wearing the same clothing Thorin’s and Thranduil’s companions were wearing.

“What is it?” Thorin questioned to Thúlon who was now smiling quite childishly.

“Good news, _Astalder_ , everyone is already in the second _nanda_.” The elfling announced. “Apparently, Adar decided it would be better to go over the mines during the night so he did and he brought with him the Naugrim that survived.”

“Survived?” Thorin tasted the word feeling the unpleasant flavour it brought to him.

“Yes, I’m sorry, _Astalder._ ” Thúlon looked back at the group that were now waiting for them. “I do not know if Lord Dáin is one of them, but we should go. Night is going to fall soon and these trackers told us the survivors are still recovering. Maybe, when we get to the _nanda_ Adar may explain everything better.”

*****

Almost two hours later the sight of a great extension of vegetation reached the sights of the elves. Thorin and Thranduil rode faster following the elves until they were welcomed by some elven warriors. Thorin and Thranduil were helped out of their mount and directed to the place where Thúlon was waiting for them. Both Princes looked around them with bewilderment in his eyes, Thúlon smiled hurrying them inside the oasis. When they mentioned an oasis, Thorin could only imagine a couple of trees, some grass growing on the sand, sand and perhaps a handmade well. He even thought about more sand and sun and nothing else but a small terrain of land where shadows protected the travellers from the sun. He couldn’t be more wrong.

While it wasn’t a great extension of space, the _nanda_ turned out to be far larger than Thorin initially thought. The place had several trees filling up the open space with light shade of green at their feet, the grass was intertwined with the dark shade of the sand. The moment Thorin could step inside the place he felt rest with the smell of vegetation and water filling his nostrils while the clear aroma of food and wine claim his attention. Beside him, Thranduil was looking around in awed, with Thúlon giving some orders to the elves that were with him. Soon, the elfling joined them looking around before pointing at a place Thorin had not noticed before. Hidden under the shade of two big palms was an elven camp, dark skinned elves were moving around disappearing from sight as they went back into the desert.

“Welcome to _nanda_.” Thúlon gestured to the Princes for them to follow him deeper inside the oasis.

“Why do you call him _nanda_?” Thorin inquired curiously.

“Oh, in the common tongue it means watered plain.” Thúlon explained before pointing at the lake in the middle of the oasis. “This is a lake that formed a long time ago, it is said the waters from under the earth are ordered by Ulmo to keep these places for the travellers of the sand.”

“Ulmo?” Thorin tasted the name crunching up his nose.

“He is a Valar.” Thranduil explained. “One of the fourteen powerful spirits that forge Middle-Earth.”

Thorin nodded without understanding completely what Thranduil meant, soon the dwarf returned his attention to his surroundings. He noticed he didn’t sink on the sand, but this was mainly because the _nanda_ was formed on stone and hard ground. While there was still hot, and Thorin felt the weight of the sun on his head and shoulders there was also a refreshing change when the shade of the trees reached his skin. Thúlon stopped suddenly his face breaking into a softening smile at the sight of a tall male approaching them.

Thranduil opened his eyes slightly looking quite impressed by the elf who wore short hair, a long bow on his back and a pair of curved swords at his sides. The elf had a darker shade of skin, his eyes were clear but his features, the sharp jaw along with the broad shoulders and the childish aspect of his face made him look just like the young elf that was greeting him with a light bow.

“Prince Thranduil, Prince Thorin, allow me to introduce you to King Tuon, consort of King Erumion and commander of the desert trackers.” Thúlon couldn’t help the pride in his voice, or the deep emotion his eyes showed while making the introductions.

The elf chuckled placing his right hand on his chest bowing his head, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. And it is more pleasant to see you again, Thúlon.”

“Right now the survivors are sleeping; my healers had taken care of them.” King Tuon commented gravely turning to the Princes. “Food is being made along with some drinks. We will sit and I will tell you everything that happened, if you are agreeable to the idea, of course.”

“I am, but before we can do this I just need to know.” Thorin replied rather serious. “Amongst the survivors did you see my cousin? Lord Dáin Ironfoot?”

Tuon opened his eyes looking at Thúlon then at Thorin, “He lives, yes. But I believe it would be better for you to talk to him later, when he has recovered.”

Thorin was about to speak again when a calming hand fell upon his shoulders, he turned to see Thranduil smiling softly at him.

“Don’t worry, if he is alive but wounded he needs the rest.” Thranduil explained softly trying to soothe the worries of the dwarf.

King Tuon narrowed his eyes at the interaction, but there was only curiosity in his eyes. Thorin glanced back at the elf nodding reluctantly.

“Very well, I apologize; it has been too long since I last heard any news from Dáin.” Thorin explained.

“You need not to worry, _Astalder._ ” Thúlon replied ignoring the quirked of his father’s brow and the amusement gleaming in the older elf’s eyes. “I know Adar took great care of Lord Dáin, we should just recover our strength and heard what happened to the Naugrim.”

“Excellent idea, I believe in a few moments dinner would be ready. We were just waiting for all of you to arrive.” King Tuon commented before directing his son and the Princes to his tent.

Thorin noticed the male also showed certain harshness in his voice, his accent was rather marked by the obvious lack of experience while using the common tongue. But this didn’t make him any less impressive. Thorin returned the gesture in the same way Thranduil did, the Dwarven-Prince could see the resemblance between King Tuon and Thúlon and soon he realized the Kingdom or Dorwinion had two males in charge. However, this wasn’t the only reason why he seemed so curious about this elven family; Thúlon looked so much like his two father’s it was obvious one of them had given birth to the young elf. Something inside Thorin clicked with certain clarity and dread filled the dwarf’s heart when he remembered something he forgot to ask King Erumion, the scar on his abdomen, the same scar Thranduil wore on his.  However, when Thorin went to ask this Thranduil was standing beside him smiling gently at him, his hand cup the side of the dwarf's face before he placed a soft kiss on those lips.

Thorin seemed daze, his lips curling in an answering smile, "what was that for?"

Thranduil hesitated for a moment, he glanced at Tuon and Thúlon speaking quite animatedly and he was remained of Legolas and how much he missed his son. He was also remained of the conversation he needed to held with Thorin regarding his son, he needed to tell Thorin about Legolas before they could even speak of having children on their own. It wasn't until now, when he got to see this strange elven family he understood the conversation couldn't wait, but this was not the moment or the place for the conversation. 

"I just...I need it." Thranduil explained suddenly very shy.

Thorin didn't quite believe this explanation, still he wouldn't press the matter for now, instead he tugged at Thranduil's clothes putting the elf close to him.

"I think I need it too." Thorin commented lightly, Thranduil chuckled leaning in for another kiss.

The question Thorin wanted to ask was postpone but not forgotten; both Princes soon would find they would have to work on their happiness and their new relationship if they wanted to face the darkness already growing in the mountain.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I love writing it.
> 
> There is something I want to explain as well; when the King gives Thranduil the beverage I was thinking more of an elvish and natural contraceptive; Thranduil is not completely worried because, as he said, there had not been more children in Mirkwood since Legolas, but King Erumion knows these two Princes are destined for greater things. So better be safe than sorry. However, don't worry, there will be kids,, just not right now.
> 
> Next chapter we go back to Erebor and Khand to see what happen to the rest of the world while both Princes were lost.
> 
> Thorin will find out about Legolas true parentage and Dáin will reveal something Thranduil seem pretty scare of.


	15. Something Made of Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happen then is what will define what happens now.  
> Thorin and Thranduil have an honest talk, Bofur and Oín discover something unpleasant, Legolas and Glorfindel just discover how prepare Thorin's company is and Oropher is wondering what he should do now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my dear readers!  
> First of all, I want to thank every single one of you for reading my story and giving me this chance to write some Thorinduil and to give this ship more stories. Thank you for your lovely comments, your kudos and bookmarks and for reading in general and, specially, thank you for being patient with me with my grammar and my spelling mistakes.  
> Second, this chapter is divided in two parts. The first part is Then – and takes place in the period of time between Thorin and Thranduil’s arrival to the city of men beside the river and their time in Khand before going to the gold mines. The second part is Now – which places the Princes where we left them in the last chapter. I hope this is not confusing.  
> Once again, I hope you can forgive my grammar, spelling and other funny mistakes.  
> I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoy writing it.

**Chapter 15**

**Something made of gold**

**_Then_ **

King Oropher leaned forward to look beyond the railing.

The Valley breathed life and peacefulness; the elves below conversed and laughed without any care of the happenings in the world beyond this Homely Home. The King scowled lifting his chin to turn his attention back to the white dome crowing the highest place in the valley. He kept walking following the young elf while trying not to enjoy too much the welcoming aroma of nature and spring. Oropher looked around him to see the carefully crafted wonders of the balcony and the white hall or the long stairs leading to the dome. He stopped right at the bottom glancing up then back at the young elf who bowed respectfully at him.

“My Lord Elrond and the members of the White Council are waiting for you, King Oropher.” Lindir spoke softly signaling with his left hand the stairs.

“Thank you.” Oropher replied turning around and making his way towards the dome. His eyes went below the stairs where he could make out the forms of elves living in peace.

“King Oropher.” Oropher turned to see Elrond waiting for him at the top of the stairs, the Half-Elf smiled gently with his right hand on his chest. “Welcome to Rivendell.”

“It is good to be here, old friend.” Oropher replied mirroring the smile Elrond was wearing.

“Must you lie to me in my own home?” Elrond said with a serious tone, even as his eyes softened a little.

Oropher stood in front of Elrond shaking his head, “I wouldn’t dare, Lord Elrond. I am truthful in my words, even if I am not being completely honest.”

“Careful, Elrond, you know Oropher always has the right answer for everything.” The King of the Woodland Realm tensed, his sharp eyes lifted to see Celeborn sitting at a circular table glancing back at him.

“Celeborn.” The greeting was cold with a hint of tension in his tone; Celeborn smiled sadly nodding his head.

“King Oropher, it is good to see you again.”

“Is it?” Oropher replied harshly, the King felt the soft touch of Elrond on his forearm and the King tried to keep his feelings under control. “I have to admit I was quite shocked at having received the invitation to such a private gathering. Either way, I believed it is good to see you too, Celeborn.”

King Oropher looked around the room, his eyes fell upon the form of the Istari, Saruman, then he turned to Mithrandir who wore a worried expression and finally his eyes fell upon Lady Galadriel. The she-elf was looking as magnificent as always, her blue eyes crystal and twinkling were regarding King Oropher with an ancient understanding and sympathy the King was tempted to ignore. Elrond led them towards the table indicating with a gesture of his hand a close chair, King Oropher sat down while Elrond took his chair beside him.

“Now that we all are here,” Elrond began looking at each and every single person at the table. “I will like for Mithrandir to share what he has to say to us.”

“Indeed, I was quite shocked to note a meeting had been called with urgency and that King Oropher had been invited, even though he was not part of the Council.” Saruman replied leaning back on his chair, he quirked a brow at Gandalf who shifted on his own chair glancing rapidly at Oropher who, even though he was a little insulted by the comment, was also quite curious as to why he had been invited.

“Some strange happenings had been brought to my attention and I thought it necessary to discuss it with every being that had been involved with this subject in the past.”

Mithrandir said this in a grave voice; he was trying to convert his worries of the past few months into his words while making sure he made eye contact with all the presents. King Oropher couldn’t help but lean forward and listen because, most of what Mithrandir was saying he had seen and heard before. The Istari spoke about a strange darkness growing up north near the border of Mirkwood and Lothlórien, he spoke about the creatures trying to come back into the world, giant spiders and trolls along with a great activity coming from the orcs and the goblins inside the Misty Mountains and the ones hidden away in Moria. Every single narration, every single testimony had one single thing in common, all of them were stirred by a shadow, a shadow coming from the ancient Fortress of Dol-Guldur.  And then, Mithrandir started talking about this shadow trying to reach out to the Kingdom’s of men and Dwarves. This caught Oropher’s attention for soon King Thráin was mentioned.

“I’ve been told King Thráin has already received the visit of this emissary of the Fortress, and the last time I was in Rohan, King Théoden told me this messenger had been trying to get an audience with him.”

Saruman made a strange noise at the back of his throat; he was scowling deeply glancing at Gandalf as if he was nothing more than a child.

“I do hope, Gandalf, you are not talking about this rumors I’ve been hearing about the _necromancer.”_ Saruman said this with distaste as if the mere fact he was saying it made him taste something foul in his mouth. “This is a mere tale tell by old gossiping human’s and those lesser inhabitants of Middle Earth; the works of a greedy human who was lucky enough to be born with some lesser magical powers.”

Gandalf stiffened his eyes going immediately to Saruman then to Lady Galadriel who wore a cold façade with her eyes glaring openly at Saruman.  

“I’ve heard of him.” Oropher interrupted the tension in the air; he didn’t look at Saruman but at Gandalf. “My elves have been trying to gather some Intel from the fortress, ever since I found out about the spawns of Ungoliat trying to breach my forest.”

Everyone in the room turned to the King, Gandalf nodded briefly and Oropher could tell the Istari was grateful by his intervention. Oropher couldn’t understand why, if what Gandalf said was true and what Oropher was saying didn’t come as a surprise something bigger and terrible was hiding in Dol-Guldur.

“He is not mere man, Saruman.” Oropher said dryly. “A simple man with lesser magical powers could not summon and submit the dark creatures roaming near Dol-Guldur. Or rise rumors about Gundabad.”

“I do not know what this necromancer is.” Gandalf admitted looking around, “However, Radagast…”

“Radagast?” Saruman couldn’t hide another hint of annoyance in his tone. “Oh, do tell us what _Radagast_ has to say about these matters, I believe his opinion must be quite interesting.”

Oropher furrowed his brow, while he understood Radagast the Brown was quite _peculiar_ , his grandson seemed to have him in high regards, and the Istari actually care for the flora and fauna of Mirkwood and had his moments of wisdom whenever he wasn’t acting like a strange hermit in the middle of the forest. Besides, Radagast could talk to the animals around Mirkwood and these had been of great help for the King and his elves when trying to seek out intruders and spiders.

Gandalf hesitated again his hand twitched and his eyes were on Galadriel who nodded curtly, the wizard moved his hand under the table putting out a strange objected covered in a clear cloth. Oropher leaned forward while Gandalf merely stood up, his wrinkled hands untying the knots keeping the cloth firmly wrapped around the object. Then, everything was silent and Oropher felt dread filling up his heart.

Oropher lifted his eyes to see Celeborn looking directly at him; both of them had seen this sword before. They had been side by side while fighting the dark figure holding the hilt while trying to harm them the very first time they joined in a battle after the fall of Doriath.

“A Morgul blade.” Elrond whispered with a hint of dread in his voice, his eyes pinned Gandalf who nodded gravely.

“Radagast found this along with a friend of his, a skin changer named Beor, near the path leading to…” Gandalf trailed off turning to Galadriel who leaned back on her chair.

“Leading to Angmar.” Galadriel finished. “Or at least, what little was left of the cursed land.”

Saruman scowled with his hands twitching at his sides, his lips pursing looking around the table still paying attention to the dark blade. Oropher shook his head standing as well, he made his way to the blade before tilting his head to stare into Celeborn’s grey eyes.

“This is why you call me?” Oropher couldn’t help the tinge of bitterness in his voice, there was reproach as well but Celeborn didn’t flinch under the stare of the King. “Now that your Realm is in danger you call for me?”

“I call you here because something bigger is stirring in the shadows, Oropher.” Celeborn commented furrowing his brows. “Leave our differences aside, brother, and tell me you haven’t felt the same things I have for quite some time. Personally, even with our differences, I trust no one but you.”

Oropher hated this, because he didn’t need to ask Celeborn what he was talking about. He had felt it, the darkness trying to grasp Mirkwood and the world, he had felt dread filling his heart when he received the visit of the emissary of the Fortress. Then, the rumors about the fires of Mordor and the stirring of dark creatures all around Middle Earth had motivated him to extend his influence to the Kingdom of Erebor and even to the Kingdom of Dale. He was, however, quite stubborn to try and reach out for Lothlórien which, in the end, didn’t matter for Lothlórien had reached out to him.

“My Lords, you can’t actually think this means something, can you?” Saruman tried to sound as the voice of reason; his smile was condescending with his hands gesturing for a calmer meeting.

“Is the black blade not enough for you, Lord Saruman?” Galadriel asked coldly, her brow quirking perfectly while her eyes shot a daring stare to the Istari.

“I think it is an exaggeration, yes.” Saruman replied. “This could be anything. An orc trying to be a master for the rest of the accursed race or a simple human who may not have such lesser powers. It is nothing we should be completely concern about.”

“Saruman, I do not believe this. This Necromancer…there is something in the brewing here.” Gandalf commented. “A storm we have not foreseen but to which we should be prepared. The enemy…”

“The enemy?” This time around it was Elrond the one to interrupt; the Half-Elf was glancing at Gandalf with calculating eyes. “What enemy are you talking about, Gandalf? Orcs? Wargs? This shadows we have only heard rumors off? Or, this Necromancer you speak off?”

Oropher had tensed along with the rest of the room when Gandalf had used the word, he too turned to the Istari who was a little hesitant to voice his thoughts. But it was evident for the way everyone was looking at him, Oropher knew who he was referring to.

“You cannot mean _him.”_ Oropher replied shaking his head. “He was defeated a long time ago, Mithrandir. Blood was spilled so we could live in peace; _he_ cannot be alive and much less hidden in Dol-Guldur without us noticing.”

“Is it really that impossible to believe?” Galadriel intervened glancing at Oropher. “You have been preparing yourself, have you not King Oropher? You have sense it much like my husband has, both of you have been preparing even though neither of you have dare to give form to your fears.”

And when Oropher turned to Celeborn he saw the male elf was wearing the same expression as him, reluctance mixed with realization. When Oropher turned to Elrond he could see the Elven Lord was trying to understand while furrowing his brows in wonderment. Saruman was still quite skeptical but he had kept his mouth shut while facing Gandalf and the blade.

“Even if what all you say is true, Lady Galadriel, Sauron cannot recover his full strength until he has the One in his power.” Saruman finally said facing Galadriel. “And we all know this object has been lost forever.”

“We do?” Gandalf questioned blinking a little. “We do know it is lost but not if its fate is that of being forever misplace.”

“Do you not think if the Ring was here he would have already moved his forces to try and recover it?” Saruman replied shaking his head. “No, the Ring is lost and even if this necromancer is Sauron there is nothing he can do. He can’t threaten us the way he did before.”

“Perhaps this is why he has been gathering his strength.” Oropher commented softly. “Perhaps he does know and that’s why he has been moving in the shadows trying to gather his forces and building up an army to strike while we keep discussing if his existence and his return it is possible or not.”

The dome went completely still at this, silence was rather tense and every single elf and Istari present wore signs of concern on their faces. The eyes of Oropher turned to the Morgul blade clenching his jaw at the myriad of memories invading his mind. Even with this discussion he couldn’t quite comprehend why he was called to Rivendell; this business had always been solved without consulting him, the Last Alliance was fought a long time ago and the last one to request his opinion and his presence had been Gil-Galad and Elrond. This time around, though, he sensed it had been Celeborn the one to call upon him to this place. Looking out of the corner of his eye he could see Celeborn staring at him; Elrond approached the table covering the cursed blade while letting out a heavy, tired sigh.

“You have come here with news, Gandalf, but I also know you have come here with advice.” Elrond stared at Gandalf who nodded briefly smiling a little.

“I have.” Gandalf looked at Saruman briefly before speaking to everyone. “I believe we should investigate this matter and, I’m afraid, there is only one place that can bring satisfactory answers to this matter.”

“You intent to investigate the High Fells of Rhudaur.” Galadriel stated glancing with concern at Gandalf.

“Yes, my Lady.” Gandalf grabbed his staff glancing at the blade. “If our fears are true then this means the Witch-King would be alive but he would be with his Master. The High Fells of Rhudaur may give us some answers and perhaps not journeying towards Angmar.”

“I also believed in this matter, King Oropher can be of great assistance with the surveillance of the Fortress.” Gandalf glanced at Oropher who remained impassive. “You and Lord Celeborn can be watching over Dol-Guldur before we decided to make our move.”

“You have thought this thoroughly, have you not?” Saruman sighed shaking his head. “Very well, I believe this is a wise take on this matter. Investigate and confirm for yourself what I already know.”

“And what if he is right? What if Sauron is just recovering his full strength?” Oropher questioned looking around the room. “What if this isn’t a puny mortal trying to play with powers he cannot understand?”

“Then, we will stop it.” Celeborn replied. “As we always have.”

The meeting, apparently, was over with this.

Soon Gandalf along with Saruman retired leaving the Elven Lords in the dome, Saruman had requested for well-deserved rest while Gandalf would join with the Dúnedain waiting for him on the Valley.  Oropher had a feeling he stayed behind because the meeting he was invited to wasn’t over yet; the Elven-King glance at the running water surrounding the dome while he felt a pair of eyes on him.

“I received a letter a few months ago.” Celeborn sneaked his hand inside his pocket, soon a green enveloped appeared and Oropher could see the clear markings of the scrolls he used for formal mailing. “Imagine my surprise when I read the letter was from Legolas, who was worried and enrage with you for the engagement of Thranduil to Prince Thorin, a dwarf of Erebor.”

Oropher snorted he should have known Legolas would do something like this. After he had arrived to Mirkwood without Thranduil, Legolas had been angry but when he told the young elf about the engagement his grandson had refused to speak to him. Now, several months letter, Legolas didn’t speak to him but send letters to Celeborn to accuse Oropher of his actions. Oropher lifted his eyes to see Elrond was looking at him half-amused and half-puzzle; Lady Galadriel from her part was wearing a mysterious smile while her eyes gleamed knowingly.  Celeborn was the only one looking openly angry at this.

“Why have you done this to Thranduil, Oropher?” Celeborn spoke softly, coldly while placing the letter on the table. “I understand an alliance with Erebor, but to actually get Thranduil engage to a dwarf? What did you promise King Thráin? An heir? An immortal heir?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Oropher replied rolling his eyes, “We don’t even know if the marriage amongst our species would be enough to produce an heir. Besides, my son would have to actually feel something other than animosity for the dwarf if a child is to be procreated.”

“Is it that impossible?” Every male at the table turned to Galadriel who was looking rather curious, with her brows lifted slightly and her eyes completely focused on Oropher.

“What do you mean?” Oropher furrowed his brows and Galadriel tilted her head.

“Is it really that impossible for you to believe, perhaps, Prince Thranduil and Prince Thorin can overlook the hatred and the resentment and actually form a bond?” Galadriel gauged the reaction from the King’s face as she continued. “Of perhaps the both of them creating life out of love?”

Oropher opened his mouth in shock, he stared at Galadriel as if she was mad or perhaps joking about the subject. The she-elf, however, was looking more serious than ever her expression was completely still not leaving room for an argument. Even Celeborn was glancing at his wife puzzle and skeptical.  

“I’m sorry, my Lady, but I think I heard you wrong.” Oropher started. “Are you actually suggestion there may be love between my son and a dwarf? My son who saw Doriath fall under the hands of the traitorous race?”

“You weren’t thinking this when you engage Thranduil to Prince Thorin.” Elrond intervened.

“You heard what Mithrandir said, Elrond. And, while you have been here protected by the walls of the Valley I have been out there facing the growing darkness in the world.” Oropher replied icily. “I’ve been facing groups of orcs and wargs, giant spiders trying to break the protection of my forest, attacking the caravans coming from other Kingdoms and cites of men. Thranduil understand his role in Erebor and as the husband-to-be of Prince Thorin, why can you understand this? There is no love lost between them, so there won’t be any harm done.”

“So, this is just a political move?” Celeborn questioned shaking his head. “Did you give Thranduil an option, Oropher?”

“He is a Prince, he is doing this for our Realm, to make sure we have strong ties to our allies to face the oncoming storm.” Oropher glared at Celeborn clenching his fist.

“Then, why not marry him to a human? The King of Dale, for example.” Celeborn pressed. “Why the dwarf of Erebor? Is it really to forge an alliance or is it because you’re still seeking revenge?”

“The King of Dale seems to have deeply affections for my son and, as far as I know, my son is not indifferent to him in bed.” Oropher sneered at this. “No, the man would have been a bad option. The Dwarf, however, was perfect for this could be interpreted as a leap of faith to amend the relationship between our races.”

Oropher continued glaring at Celeborn closing his moth after this revelation; Celeborn was torn between confusion and disbelief at the words leaving King Oropher’s mouth. While it was true there was a part of him seeking out to strengthen his alliance with Erebor, there was another part that wanted revenge. It was absurd and sometimes, when the King allowed himself weakness he felt sorrow for having used his son and allowing the darkness of the past consume him. Why did he make the deal with Erebor? Looking into Celeborn’s eyes he saw the truth behind those grey eyes.

“You never forgive Thranduil his nature, don’t you?” Celeborn said softly, sadly and disappointed and Oropher wanted to be enraged because his older brother didn’t have any right to reclaim him. He hadn’t been the one to abandon their people; he hadn’t been the one running away to the safety of a forest while everyone else face the final strikes of Morgoth and the oncoming storm that was Sauron.

“Thranduil was born to be great, even if his _nature_ decided otherwise, he was born to be King.” Oropher said.

“Being able to carry a child is a blessing, Oropher.” Elrond leaned forward trying to catch his friend’s eyes in his. “Thranduil has always been strong, always trying to please you by becoming cold and detached of the world. To be the Prince you expected him to be. His nature has never stopped him for being the great Prince and elf he is.”

“Yet he fell in love with a lower class soldier and bore him a child.” Oropher commented bitterly. “And then, decide to bed a human out of spite.”

“Haldir loved Thranduil, Oropher, as much as Thranduil loved him.” Celeborn shook his head. “I don’t know about the King of Dale; but I do know Thranduil deserved happiness. You are allowing your own prejudices and your own fears to take over and try and command the life of your son. Now, you’re trying to keep working on all grudges by what? Marrying him to a dwarf, to someone he may despised and that may make him miserable.”

“Are you so sure of this?” Again Galadriel caught everyone in the room by surprised, the Lady of Lothlórien leaned forward glancing at Oropher then at her husband.

“My lady?” Celeborn questioned not understanding the sudden interruption.

“Are you certain there can't be love or understanding between Prince Thranduil and Prince Thorin?” Galadriel questioned softly. “All of you are speaking of the unfairness that is Thranduil’s nature, of Oropher’s treatment of his son and this news about an elf engaged to a dwarf.”

Galadriel looked around the room with three pair of eyes completely focused on her, the Lady of Lothlórien wondered if they really realized their own prejudices about the subject. For Galadriel had not been that hard to believe and to actually sense love might be possible and, if there was someone who could feel it, that was Thranduil.

“Have you wondered King Oropher, what would you do? How you’re plan would turn out to be if your son actually fell in love with prince Thorin? What if they bonded? What if a child between our races is possible?” Galadriel quirked a brow daring the King from an honest answer. “I’ve heard of Prince Thorin, so much like Durin the Deathless, so much like the noble race of Dwarrows we first encounter in Middle-Earth.  What if they are meant to break the chain of hatred born out of misunderstandings between our species? Would you take Thranduil’s happiness away because he decided to pledge himself to a dwarf?”

No one could answer these questions and Galadriel left the dome leaving behind a King who was now just wondering what the Lady of Lothlórien knew that he, apparently, was missing.

*****

Lady Galadriel rested her body against the column, her face lifted to the darkened sky filled with twinkly stars above her. She contemplated the sky while her mind was worrying over the recent news Mithrandir had brought to them.  She knew Celeborn had been feeling the uneasiness as well, and Lothlórien had been preparing for an invisible enemy; the meeting with Oropher had brought to her old memories of old alliances, of those friendships lost to bitterness and misunderstandings. She wished Oropher could forgive Celeborn for what had happened after Doriath fell and even for what happened when his wife had gone to bring Haldir back to Mirkwood; they had always been late to help Oropher, and Oropher had always been too quick to judge and resent them.

The Lady of the Golden Forest smiled when Eärendil gleamed brightly in the sky making her heart shrank with emotion. For a strange reason, when they had gotten the letter from Legolas, instead of being mad Galadriel had felt comfort with a light of hope burning in her heart. In the midst of shadows and whispers of dangers, the news about both Princes being engaged had been like fresh water on a hot summer afternoon.

“You look pensive.” Celeborn interrupted her thoughts, but the Elven Lord stayed behind his wife contemplating the beauty of her figure. “Do you really believe there could be love between Thranduil and Prince Thorin?”

Celeborn tried to sound serious but he couldn’t help the amusement in his tone, “Because, let me tell you, _Meleth-nîn_ , the expression on Oropher’s face was priceless. But I am not certain I agree with you. Not matter how noble Prince Thorin may be.”

Galadriel tilted her head to look at her husband, “I have a feeling, but nothing else.”

Celeborn nodded approaching the balcony, “It would be incredible, wouldn’t it?”

“Perhaps.” Galadriel sighed shaking her head. “I believe it would be necessary for any conflict between our races to stop. Darkness is approaching and a little glimpse of hope in the form of Thranduil’s happiness wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”

“No, it wouldn’t.” Celeborn furrowed his brows, “Have you imagine it?”

Galadriel turned her head in wonderment and Celeborn elaborated his comment.

“Have you imagined if a child were to be born out of the union between Thranduil and Prince Thorin?” Celeborn questioned because he had been long enough with his wife to know she was hiding something. A premonition, perhaps?

Galadriel smiled and it was pure happiness and amusement, “I have and I believe if this were to happen you should be near Oropher when he is given the news, his face then would be priceless.”

Celeborn laughed shaking his head; he glanced at Galadriel crossing his arms. Galadriel chuckled before returning to her contemplation of the night.

“Is there anything you know that I don’t?” Celeborn questioned his wife, Galadriel drew a mysterious smile but denied these words with a shake of her head.

“No, only a hunch, nothing else.” Galadriel resumed her staring and Celeborn pursed his lips but decided to not press the matter. Either way, in a couple of weeks he would go directly to Thranduil and see with his own eyes just what his wife could sense that Oropher and he were ignoring.

“I really wish things were different with Oropher; perhaps, now that we have come to an agreement this darkness should be taken care of we could start rebuilding our relationship.” Celeborn commented softly, changing the topic. “Although, I agree with Mithrandir’s take on this subject, I would also like for Lothlórien and Mirkwood to be on their guard on this. I think I should ask Oropher for a meeting.”

“That would be wise, yes.” Galadriel responded.  “I think you and I know already the answer to this; Mithrandir would only further our suspicions.”

“Today is just a peaceful night. Let’s us enjoy this before we have to go back to the world tomorrow, then we will face this as we always had.” Celeborn finally stated approaching his wife while placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

While the Elven Lords were discussing the growing shadow in Middle Earth and Prince Thorin and Prince Thranduil were arriving to the city of Khand; King Thráin had started moving the pieces of his game.

The room was completely silent.

The King stepped forward holding something in his hand hidden behind a red cloth. He wore the King’s crown on his head, black and gold, the symbol of the House of Durín and the heirs to Erebor’s Throne. Everyone was looking at their King with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, some even with respect and admiration as the Dwarven Lord neared the newly made Throne.

Thráin hadn’t waited longer than four days since his son’s departure to present the gem he found in the mountain. His ambitions were taking the desired form when he saw his son departed with his betrothed towards his destiny; the King held back a smirk thinking of all the things he could do once the members of the Greenstone clan brought the Elven-Prince back and the news of his son’s dead. With this Arkenstone and the line of Durín in danger of disappearing, no one would oppose Thráin and his desires would be achieved.   Now, with the rings on his hand, the Arkenstone about to be placed above his throne as divine sign, Thráin could only wait for the gift of eternal life to come to him before he would voice his intention to join forces with the Lord of Dol-Guldur.

The King Under the Mountain walked towards his throne, the dwarves and the elven delegation invited over were ignorant the growing darkness in the King’s heart or the malevolent machinations of his sick mind. No one suspected and, by the time they might realize what was happening, it would be already too late. But for now, everyone was waiting to see why their King had called upon them so early in the afternoon with the council, the generals and the Elven guards and the youngest Elven-Prince all watching the King expectantly.

Thráin made sure everyone was looking at him by the time he reached his new throne, his eyes went through the careful crafting of define forms representing the symbols of the House of Durin and the mountain. The throne was made with a high back and at the very top a special place for the gem in his hands. The King turned around his free hand grabbing the red cloth before uncovering the gem under it, King Thráin took great pleasure in the astonished stares by the presents in the room; he saw their growing eyes and the sudden shock and respect behind their faces. The King put the gem closer to his heart before speaking, his voice carried out by the echo of the room.

“I’ve been asking Mahal to bless us, his children under the mountain, with a sign that we will prevail before the forces of our enemies.” The King spoke gravely, loudly and with authority. Many of the Dwarrows present in the Throne room turned their attention from the stone to their King.

“Mahal has answered my pleas by giving to me the Heart of the Mountain, the Arkenstone.” The King lifted the stone. “I know many of you have heard of the dark times approaching, but we have been blessed. My kingdom is growing, our treasure is like nothing anyone in Middle-Earth has seen before, my army is one of the biggest and most powerful there is and, finally, my son is making peace with our allies and our people. This stone is a gift that recognized our ruling as a divine mandate. May Erebor stand before its enemies in victory.”

Many of the presents screamed at one with their King, Thráin turned around to place the Arkenstone on his throne while Glorfindel turned to Legolas who was completely expressionless. The young Elven-Prince had only a hint of interested in his face but, otherwise, he was not revealing much of his emotions. Legolas tilted his head his eyes soon found those of his master, Glorfindel quirked his lips nodding almost imperceptibly at the young elf.

Thráin was exited with everyone coming to him with words of praise and loyalty, many admiring the jewel with gleaming eyes before they congratulated their King for such a finding and for having Mahal’s favour. The room was soon filled with exited Dwarrow conversations about riches and expansion, about how wise was their King at having secured an alliance with the elves and all the glorious things Thráin had done and would do in the near future.  It seemed as if the sight of the jewel was enough to make everyone in the room forget about the erratic behaviour of their King, his words filled with a sickeningly sweet tone or the glint of darkness in his eyes. Everyone had only eyes for the stone crowning the King who was now sitting at the Throne looking quite arrogantly at every single one of the nobles approaching him.

“Shall we congratulate the King, Master?” Legolas asked softly to Glorfindel who nodded.

“Ah, my honourable guests, Captain Glorfindel and Prince Legolas.” The King lifted his chin, his lips curling up in a smirk.

“Congratulations, my Lord. It is a jewel meant for a King such as yourself.” Legolas spoke softly but clearly, his right arm pressed to his abdomen and his body inclining just a little.

“Thank you, Prince Legolas, I’m glad to see the elven eyes are far more useful than just to stare into the distance.” Said the King laughing at his own joke, Glorfindel felt his irritation with the King grow but Legolas remained impassive smiling back at Thráin and looking just as innocent and sincere as possible.

“Indeed, my Lord. May your beard grow ever longer, King Thráin and my your years as King be blessed.”

“Ah, an elf with good manners, you and I will get along just fine, Prince Legolas.” Thráin answered not without certain surprise at the right words used by Legolas.

In the end, Legolas and Glorfindel walked away while King Thráin called for a feast; everyone around the King agreed and soon the kitchens on the Royal Palace were getting buzzing with excitement as the dinner and the drinks were being prepared and the musicians were being called. 

Legolas walked away from all the excitement with his heart feeling the weight of his father’s absence. Glorfindel pressed a hand on the young Prince’s shoulder glad they seemed to be ignored by the presentation of such a strange jewel. The Elven-Prince turned to his Captain with only a hint of worry behind those blue eyes.

“Don’t you think there is something strange about all this?” Legolas finally asked, Glorfindel looked around them before pointing to a door.

“We better take this conversation to another location.” Glorfindel led his student down a hall full of pillars only to reach the side door leading to a silent hall.

Legolas opened his mouth to speak but the older elf shook his head walking down the hall until they reached another door. This time around they were entering the main yard of the Royal Palace where some Dwarrows were working around the small garden and the gates. Both elves stopped suddenly, straightened up and trying to act normally, this act was almost broken when a voice behind them caught them by surprised.

“If a discreet conversation is what you are looking for, my dear elven Lords, I believe I know just the place.” Bilbo smiled quite smugly when both blonds turned to him startled.

“Bilbo! How…How did you do that?” Glorfindel inquired looking around quite affected by having allowed the Hobbit go through his warrior’s senses.

Bilbo cleared his throat waving his right hand away while placing his left one on his left pocket, “Oh, you know, Hobbit secrets.”

“Well, Master Baggins, I wouldn’t say no if you teach me some of them.” Legolas glanced at Glorfindel then at Bilbo highly amused. “No one, and I mean no one, can caught Mater Glorfindel off of guard like you just did.”

Bilbo laughed winking at Legolas, “We will see, I am quite enjoying his sulking face right now.”

“I am not sulking.” Glorfindel replied straightened up while looking as dignify as possible, Legolas held back his laughter turning to Bilbo.

“You said you know of a more discreet place for holding a private conversation?”

“Of course!” Bilbo replied as if the answer was quite obvious. “My home!”

Bilbo glanced at the elves who held just a bit off doubt on their eyes before he looked up and then around, “We should get moving, I let Gloin in charge of my store and I believe by the time I get there they would have eaten half the goods instead of selling them. Come, Prince Legolas, I have your favourite only for you.”

“Really?” Legolas perked up he turned to the small yard lifting a hand. “Wait here, I’m going for Beleg and then we can go.”

Glorfindel watched as Legolas went away before turning to the Hobbit, Bilbo looked up at the Captain wearing a serious semblance.

“You were in this strange gathering, weren’t you?” Glorfindel tilted his head trying to read Bilbo’s face, the Hobbit nodded curtly looking at the Palace.

“I was. Balin and Dwalin will join us later on but, for now it’s only a few of us.” Bilbo sighed. “You will have to tell them what we heard and then share your worries with us.”

Glorfindel nodded curtly watching as Legolas made his way towards them with Beleg in arms. Then the Elven Captain turned to Bilbo clearing his throat while looking seriously at the Hobbit, Bilbo blinked a little finding himself the subject of curious elven eyes.

“Did you, perchance, make the blueberry pie?”

Bilbo snorted rolling his eyes, “Of course, Captain Glorfindel, how could I forget to make your favourite meal. Don’t worry, everything is set for a late meeting amongst Thorin’s friends.”

Legolas sat with Beleg standing on his rear legs sniffing around the table, his tail wiggling happily. Every single dwarf on the table was making too much noise and there was so much laughter the cub was just overly excited. Legolas scratched the back of Beleg’s ear taking another bite from his pie while missing the presence of Thranduil and even Thorin at the table.

“Enough of this!” Gloin exclaimed turning to Bilbo. “Bilbo! Tell us what you saw and what happened in this meeting. Why were the most important families invited over along with the generals and the Clan members?”

“And, let us not forget our distinguish guests.” Nori added winking at Legolas.

The room went silent suddenly and all eyes were on Bilbo, Legolas and Glorfindel respectively, the Elven-Captain put his fork down clearing his throat while his clear eyes found those of Bilbo.  The Hobbit squirmed on his chair placing his right hand on the table.

“The King found this strange gem under the mountain.” Bilbo talked with serious demeanour and, even if a gem was mentioned no one dare to say a single thing. This was a rare occurrence, one in which Bilbo looked seriously concern.  “It was beautiful beyond measure, bright and entrancing, and the King look upon it with desire and…when no one was looking…”

Bilbo trailed off glancing up ad Glorfindel, “His words were about peace and the greatness of Erebor. But, there was something behind them…”

“He was talking in first person.” Legolas said furrowing his brows. “He was talking only about him and the alliances he had made to strengthen the Kingdom. However, I got the impression he wasn’t taking about the alliance he made with Mirkwood.”

“He probably wasn’t.” Everyone turned around to see Dwalin and Balin entering the room, Dwalin looked around scowling. “I hope you let me some food, I’m starving.”

“I thought you stay for the feast.” Bilbo commented while nodding to Bombur to pass some of the food still at the table.

“We stayed for a while but then decided to come over.” Balin sat down smiling at Bilbo. “I really need to know how you can always sneak inside these meetings. What have you told them so far?”

“All the important stuff, I leave the details to you and Captain Glorfindel.” Bilbo replied cheekily, the other’s laughed lightly but there was a strange tension in the room.

Glorfindel leaned forward resting his elbows on the table, his grey eyes took on the presents and then they finally fell upon Dwalin.

“What other alliance had King Thráin done so far?” Glorfindel asked softly, his brows furrowed as he tried to comprehend the situation. “My heart has been an uneasy for quite some time but today, today Master Dwalin I feel fear for my people, for the people under the mountain and for my Prince and Prince Thorin.”

“I felt it too.” Legolas chimed in. “It was strange, as if…”

“You were having a premonition?” Balin finished when Legolas was unable to voice his thoughts, the young Elven-Prince nodded and Balin sighed. “Father had it too. He started digging around and then, we found about a strange emissary coming from the fortress.”

“A black bat.” Dwalin finished. “A bat breed for war, the King knows of this, of course. This is why Father and other council members are really worried; however, what the King did today was a masterful move.”

“Why is that?” Legolas inquired curiously.

“Dwarves can be pretty loyal and great friends.” Bilbo said smiling at his friends before taking on a serious semblance. “However, when presented with a new form of treasure, something as beautiful as what the King showed today…well…”

Legolas looked around to see the dwarves at the table were looking rather uncomfortable at this, even Dwalin and Balin seemed rather embarrassed but no one contradict Bilbo.

“King Thráin not only revealed this Arkenstone to the most important families in the mountain but also try to make it look as if it was a sign.” Bilbo shook his head. “The council may not agree with Thráin but at least the King has silenced them for a little longer. His ambition has only grown with time and now that Thorin is not near I fear this is going to get worse.”

“I have noticed this as well.” Legolas furrowed his brow. “He seems rather obsess with his possessions, with getting more…”

“There is only one name for what the King has, lad.” Balin commented taking another bite from his pie.

“Dragon sickness.” Glorfindel said suddenly and the table tensed completely, the Elven-Captain turned to Dwalin then to Balin. “This is what your father fears, is it not? But this jewel… King Thráin brought it up as soon as his son left and suddenly proclaiming him his heir and the future of Erebor and then making it look as if Äule himself had given the stone to him; he is trying to do something else.”

Dwalin nodded grudgingly he grabbed the piece of beef on his plate musing over with worry; he knew Thorin must be warned but right now Thorin must be still on his way to the City of men beside the river just before making his way to Khand. Dwalin was worried for his friend’s well-being, overall when he remembered the soldiers sent by the Greenstone clan to accompany the Princes on this trip, and he could not shake off the satisfied expression on the Greenstone Lord who seemed to be quite close to the King.

“I’ll be leaving tomorrow.” Dwalin said suddenly, he turned to his brother and then to Legolas. “I’m going to try and reach Thorin and Prince Thranduil.”

Balin furrowed his brows but said nothing, he could tell there was something bothering Dwalin. Legolas perked up at this glancing at Dwalin who was glancing strangely at him, the dwarf took another bite of his food before pointing his fork to Legolas.

“Want me to take some message to your brother?” Legolas tensed under the question, he kept glancing at Dwalin while Bilbo and Ori looked at each other. Dwalin quirked a brow but otherwise didn’t say or do nothing else he just waited watching as Legolas turned to Glorfindel then back to Dwalin.

“Tell him, I…” Legolas trailed off, he scratched Beleg behind his ear sighing. “Tell him to be careful.”

Dwalin nodded taking another bite; Bilbo squirmed on his chair looking around the room and watching how gloomy it looked. His eyes soon found those of Captain Glorfindel and the Hobbit had the suspicious he was already thinking on informing King Oropher about what was happening and relaying a message of his own to Thranduil. The elf smiled softly at him, and Bilbo returned to smile before his eyes flickered to the young Elven-Prince who was still rather concern.

“We look like a troop of mourners and, as far as I know, no one has died.” Nori broke the silence furrowing his brow; he looked around the room before speaking again. “You two look really concerned, Bilbo used his abilities as a burglar to sneak around and now he looks worried and our elven companions look equally concern! If it is too much then we will do what we always do, am I right?”

Dori nodded along with Ori, the young dwarf lifted his head shyly looking around the table, “We should do it. Master Nori is right, if you…you guys are so worried then we will be the eyes and minds of Prince Thorin until he comes back and see what is really going on.”

“Thorin counts on us, we should do just like the lad said.” Nori continued, then he smirked at Bilbo. “Bilbo can sneak around and try to bring info that not even Dwalin is capable of sometimes.”

“Oh, shut up, Nori, you’re making me look like Gandalf…a magician of sorts or something.” Bilbo replied shaking his head.

“Don’t let Gandalf hear you said that, I don’t think he would appreciate it.” Commented Dwalin and soon the table turned into a merrier, if somewhat rowdy gathering.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Morning had already arrived and with it a smiling Bofur was trying to wait for the right moment to go over and converse with the pretty she-dwarf that had offered him the last piece of warm bread. Bofur felt the sun coming from the horizon was a good sign for his day, Thorin must have arrived to the port at the other side of the Sea of Rhûn and he had a couple of days to have some fun.

Everything seemed rather peaceful until Bofur saw an unkempt Narog running towards him. Bofur knew something was very wrong for the young dwarf had tears in his eyes; he reached Bofur taking a deep breath before talking.

“Lord Bofur…my father…” Narog started with his voice trembling a little out of breath but determined to share the news he was bringing. “Something terrible…Prince Thorin he has been lost…”

It was all Narog had to say for Bofur demeanour to change, he didn’t wait longer but took off hearing Narog screaming in the distance to go to his home.  He arrived to the main gate were a few guards allowed him entrance without thinking it twice; he almost crashed against Oín who was furrowing his brows while screaming out instructions around to several healers.

“What…What happened? Thorin…” Bofur started looking around but Oín shook his head.

“Something happened on the ship, the Greenstone clan did something, a couple of fisher-dwarrows found Captain Farin holding to his life on some plank on the sea.” Oín explained. “He has some serious wounds but nothing life threatening.”

“Can I talk to him then?” Bofur asked but Oín shook his head.

It was at that moment Lord Orik came to them, he was looking older and tired there was a glint of concern in his eyes and Bofur couldn’t blame the old dwarf for being so anxious. He turned to the old Lord and then to the soldiers.

“Do I have your loyalty for Prince Thorin, Lord Orik?” Bofur asked and Oín turned to see Orik’s reaction.

The old dwarf looked perplexed for a moment but then he nodded, “Of course, my Lord Bofur. What do you need?”

“I want you to bring me the members of the Greenstone Clan that remain in Khand.” Bofur ordered. “Bring them to me alive, if possible.”

Lord Orik furrowed his brows deeply; he turned to the soldier beside him nodding curtly. Soon the soldiers left the house and Bofur place his hand on Oín’s forearm.

“Do you remember what Dwalin told us?”

Oín nodded curtly, “I already did it. He will get the message tomorrow.”

Bofur sighed relief though he soon turned to Lord Orik who was moving his hands worriedly while trying to take a peek inside the room where his son was resting.

“Now, let me see what we can do for Captain Farin.” Oín commented. “You make sure they find those bastards and then we will ask them if they know something.”

Oín entered the room closing the door behind him; Lord Orik clenched his jaw before turning his attention to Bofur.

“What news did these fisher-Dwarrows brought to you, Lord Orik? Did they say something when they brought Captain Farin in?”

“They only told me they found remains of wreckage on the water, they then saw my son in a plank holding onto it.” Orik sounded worried he glanced at the door then back at Bofur. “They didn’t see much after finding my son. There were no more traces of survivors.”

Bofur paled clenching his fists; he felt a sudden pain pierced his heart at the thought of Thorin being lost. He felt guilty for he should have been on board of the ship to help Thorin and Prince Thranduil if they needed him.  They stood there for what seemed like hours, Bofur had the need to go and help with the search of the members of the Greenstone clan, but he didn’t want to go far enough from Captain Farin and what he could say about Thorin and Thranduil. He was getting anxious, though. He had a bad feeling about all of this and he was scared of what he should do next if they were to find that Thorin might be…Bofur shook his head, Thorin was fine. He knew it, he had known it since they met all those years ago when they were mere children and Thorin had given him the honour of his friendship. Bofur would forever be in debt with Thorin. Footsteps reached their ears interrupting their personal musings, both dwarves turned around to see a soldier approaching them fast, behind him Narog was coming as well.

“Lord Bofur! Grandfather!” Narog approached them at the same time as the soldier; the dwarf bowed to his Lord straightened his hold on the spear on his hand.

“My Lord Orik, we found three dwarves trying to hurry away from the blue shore.” The soldier reported.

Bofur perked up at this, “Take me to them.”

The soldier nodded turning to his Lord who merely waved his hand at him.

“Narog go with Lord Bofur and assist him in everything you can.” Lord Orik commanded. “Please, Lord Bofur, do whatever you think necessary to find out what you need to know.”

“I intend to.” Bofur replied and soon he and the other two dwarves left.

Bofur was taken down the streets of Khan, mid-day has already past and people were going back to their duties after a well-deserved lunch. They strolled down the streets fast until they reached the closest gate leading to the bridge at the left side of the city. Narog was walking beside Bofur with his hand firmly planted on the axe on his side, Bofur had forgotten his hammer but he still had his dagger if things were to get rougher. By the time they reached the place the soldier had called the blue shore Bofur was losing his patience, he approached the place concealed from imprudent eyes, far away from the city but not enough so to make it difficult to reach.

“They tried to run, Lord Bofur.” The soldier said suddenly squirmed uncomfortably. “We got three of them; another one could …could escape.”

Bofur scowled taking a deep breath, “Show me to this three you got. Did you send someone to look for the one that escape?”

“Yes, my lord, we did.” The soldier replied fast, Bofur nodded and let the dwarf lead him to the improvised shore.

The water of the Sea of Rhûn lapped the shore softly, the ground was dark in this part of the sea and it was fresh filled with the aroma of watery flowers and long grass. Sitting back to back, Bofur saw the three dwarrows that had come with them on the trip from Erebor to Khand. He had thought that only two or three of these dwarves were left in Khand but he could be mistaken. He gasped when he saw blood pouring from the mouths of two of them.

Narog came from behind him glancing with disgust at the dwarves, “Two of them bite their tongues before we could stop them, the other one tried but failed. Cowards way, I guess.”

“Which makes them even more dangerous, Lord Narog.” Bofur said narrowing his eyes at them. “Someone who is capable of biting his tongue off is capable of anything, so be careful.”

Narog nodded and Bofur approached the three prisoners with his eyes burning in anger, “Now, you three are going to be good little lads and answer all my questions.”

One of the dwarf’s lifted his chin glaring at him, Bofur smirked coldly, “You see, I know you guys know something we don’t or else you wouldn’t be here hiding like cowards. My Prince is missing and make no mistake, I will do anything and everything for Thorin.”

The members of the Greenstone clan didn’t look scare or even intimidate, Bofur spat on the ground standing up. He looked around the terrain but saw nothing else, he approached what looked like a boat and then turned his eyes to the small forest-like fauna surrounding this area of the Sea of Rhûn. He scratched his bear then turned to Narog.

“Did you see something else here?” Bofur finally asked, Narug turned to one of the soldiers all of them frowning and thinking hard.

“No, sir. Only these three along with the one that escaped.” Narog  commented.

Bofur nodded turning to the sea, the water was calm reflecting the light of the sun and Bofur realized night would soon fall and Thorin and Thranduil were out there. They had to.

“Let’s take them back and see what I can get out of them.” Bofur commanded coldly; everyone around him nodded moving to follow his orders. Narog stood beside Bofur glancing curiously at the dwarf.

“What is it, lad?” Bofur asked after having caught the young dwarf.

“You are worried, are you not? About Prince Thorin?” Narog questioned, Bofur tensed before nodding briefly.

“He is my Prince.” Bofur commented and, after a moment he continued, softer this time. “He is my friend.”

“At first, I thought Prince Thorin was just an arrogant Lord, someone only interested in his well-being and his wealth.” Narog shook his head, “I was wrong. Let me know if there is something I can do to help you find out what happen here.”

Bofur smiled nodding, “I will.”

The prisoners were taken to a seclude room inside the home of Lord Orik, Bofur made his way to the place where Oín must be when he saw the commotion around the room. Lord Orik opened his eyes when he noticed Bofur was there, he approached the dwarf waving away a piece of parchment in his hand, a smile on his face.

“They are alive!” Lord Orik said. “Thank Mahal, they are alive!”

Bofur opened his eyes taking the letter before scowling deeply, “Where is this Dorwinion? What is that?”

“The Kingdom of Dorwinion, Lord Bofur, belongs to the King of the Elves of Rhûn.” Lord Orik explained. “He is a noble King, and a nice elf. If they are with them right now, then they are being taken care of.”

Bofur felt a growing headache facing all the news at once, his day was turning out to be a very tiresome one. He re-read the letter where it said Thorin and Thranduil were doing fine, they were being taken care off and news of them would soon reach them again. The door off the room where Oín and Captain Farin were in opened and there came Oín quite tiredly but satisfied, he looked around and soon his hands were holding the letter Bofur passed him.

“I knew he was alive. It would take more than an attempted murder to get rid of our Prince Thorin.” Oín said tiredly but his voice was filled with worry.

“Attempted murder?” Lord Orik mumbled confusedly.

Oín nodded, “Captain Farin told me a few things while I was tending to his wounds. He is asleep now, but you can go in and be with him. He is recovering and there are no lasting wounds on him.”

Narog excused himself and went inside the room, Lord Orik, though was very anxious to see his son remained behind. Oín sat down on a nearby chair thanking the servant who, as soon as he was seated brought to the healer a cup of ale.

“Oín, what did Captain Farin tell you?” Bofur asked sitting down.

“They were attacked with explosives and quite viciously by the members of the Greenstone Clan.” Oín shook his head. “Captain Farin couldn’t tell me much, he only remembered fighting one of them before everything was blown away. He didn’t know what had happned with Thorin or Prince Thranduil. Until now.”

“We got only three members of the Greenstone clan, two of them bit their tongues off.” Bofur commented sitting down as well.

“Good Mahal.” Lord Orik mumbled sitting down glancing around. “What shall we do, my Lords? I already send word to King Erumion in the Dorwinion camp, perhaps we can arrange for you to meet Prince Thorin and Prince Thranduil in the Dwarven Port leading to the gold mines?”

Oín drank some of his ale nodding while looking over at Bofur, “What a day. And I thought everything was going to be rest and fooling around while Thorin was away.”

Bofur chucked nodding, “Yeah, me too. I think you should go over and see what you can do with these bastards, before we interrogate them. And , Lord Orik, I believe you are right, I think we need to meet with Thorin and make sure he is not in danger anymore.”

Lord Orik nodded gravelly, “My lords, today has been quite eventful, I know you haven’t eaten yet. Perhaps, would you like me to bring some food here or your arrange quarters?”

Bofur and Oín glanced at one another before answering, Oín straightened up looking over at Lord Orik.

“I think, Lord Orik, we will like to interrogate the Greenstone lads before eating.” Oín stood up. “If you want to, you can come with us.”

Lord Orik furrowed his brows nodding, “Of course, let’s go.”

Lord Orik discovered during this time why you shouldn’t mess with Prince Thorin’s friends, he realized just how loyal and how much they loved the Prince to the point they would get information with whatever means necessary. As night grew older and Bofur and Oín shared a late dinner, the both of them glanced at one another knowing too well what they had to do. They needed to reach Thorin and tell him about this, they couldn’t allow Thorin to go back to Erebor, at least, not in the way their Prince was thinking of.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

**_Now_ **

Everything was strange.

The warm of the afternoon was touching their skin, but they were successfully hidden from the light of the sun. The shadows of the trees and the fauna in this oasis were enough to make them feel protected but not completely fresh. It was a reminder to them that the desert was surrounding them, ready to consume them if they were to stray away from the path. Thorin sat down on a pillow looking around the tent where food was being served; this was different at what they had seen in the Dorwinion Kingdom. There were not high tables or high chairs, not fancy sofas or even fancy beds. This was a camp, a warrior’s camp and this usually meant be ready to leave and be ready to fight, a rudimentary set of tents and pillows and tables for the warriors to eat and to rest before continuing with their labour.

Thorin glanced at Thranduil who sat down on a pillow right beside Thorin, his forehead wrinkling slightly while his eyes looked around the unfamiliar setting. The Dwarven-Prince was tempted to smile, he had a feeling even in the midst of battle Prince Thranduil had been surrounded by luxury and none of the basic things they were seeing in this place.

“You will have to forgive us.” King Tuon said sitting down as well, he glanced around with a smile. “We do not consume wine in these parts of the desert. Too much…”

The King trailed off furrowing his brows while Prince Thúlon sat down chuckling, “They get thirsty when they drink too much wine, and since we’re in the middle of the desert it is not a good idea.”

King Tuon nodded, “Exactly, so we usually drink water or some juices made of the few plants or even fruits we found around here.”

“That is perfectly fine with us, King Tuon. If anything we should thank you for the attention.” Thranduil replied looking as some of the warriors placed bowls filled with dried fruit, some rice and meat along with bread and cheese.

“We may not have wine, but we do have tea. Would you like some?” King Tuon asked to which both Princes agreed thankful. “Well then, you may eat my friends while I tell you what is going on.”

King Tuon started his narration by telling them about the news they received regarding the orc scouts around the desert. This news were strange for those foul creatures didn’t adventure so far into a zone were the sun burn on their skins. No sooner had they started following these creatures they were attacked by a couple of desert-worms, they followed the traces of the dark creatures slaying some of them before going back to their camp. By the time they made it back they received the orders from King Erumion to make sure and watch over the golden path; King Tuon had seen the strange traces on the sand and soon he arrived to the first _nanda_ and discovered some left overs of a fight. By the time he reached the second, he found two rotten bodies of orcs and more traces of some of the dwarves. He was supposed to survey the path and soon sent his messengers back to tell King Erumion about this, but he also decided to go further down the road until he reached the mines.

“They were barricaded. Almost dead when we got there.” King Tuon shook his head frowning deeply. “There were graves and only five survivors with Lord Dáin falling to his knees as soon as he tried to attack me.”

“He tried to attack you?” Thorin questioned glancing at the King.

“Yes, but it wasn’t his fault.” The King said waving his hand as if this wasn’t the first time he saw something like this. “He had his lips chapped, sun burns on his skin and he was starting to see things. We got to them on time.”

“I don’t think I can thank you enough for this, King Tuon.” Thorin commented seriously. “When I heard about his disappearance I tried to come here as soon as I could but circumstances stopped me from getting here on time.”

“No need to worry, Prince Thorin.” Tuon took a piece of bread while waving at his elves to place the cups of tea on the table. “I am just glad we got to them on time. Still, these happenings do have me sort of nervous, never before had I see so many orcs or even desert-worms so active in this part of the world.”

The table fell into a strange silence after this, Thorin was still registering the news his cousin was at the verge of dead when the elves of Rhûn found him. He was also thinking about his return home when he would have to face the Greenstone clan leader to find out what exactly had happened. Thorin drank some of his tea wondering if by now Bofur and Oín had heard of the ship wreckage and what they were doing. Lifting his dark eyes from his tea, he glanced at Thranduil softening slightly feeling the same peace and tenderness he usually got whenever looking at the elf.

Thranduil turned to see Thorin staring at him; the elf curled his lips in a soft smile arching a questioning brow to the dwarf. Thorin shook his head giving a half smile while returning his attention to the King and his son. Both elves were looking over at Thorin highly amused, Thúlon even looked rather satisfied and smug about this show of affection.  Thorin kept his eyes on both elves, tilting his head while he wondered how was it possible for this race to be so marvellous, odd and puzzling at the same time; he could see so much of Tuon on Thúlon but he could also see much of Erumion on the young elf. Thúlon leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with mischief while he winked at the Dwarven-Prince.

“Please, _Astalder,_ do not look at me like this, you are making me nervous and I don’t think Prince Thranduil appreciates it.” Thúlon chuckled until his father hit him on the shoulder.

Thorin opened his eyes not noticing he had been staring at the young elf with intensity, he turned to see Thranduil rolling his eyes at him while also glaring mockingly.

“I…I wasn’t staring!” Thorin exclaimed. “Not…not much, I was just wondering…”

“And what, pray tell us, were you wondering with such an intensity, Prince Thorin?” Thranduil questioned with amusement in his tone, his eyes gleaming finding those of Thorin.

“I still found it curious that elven males can procreate.” Thorin said with just a hint of honest curiosity in his voice.

Thranduil tensed with his eyes fixated on Thorin; however, Thorin was already glancing at Tuon and Thúlon who were looking rather bewildered by the comment. Thúlon glanced at his father tilting his head while his eyes found those features he knew were marked upon his own face.

“It is not that difficult once you know how elven bodies work, _Astalder._ ” Thúlon replied looking at his father out of the corner of his eye. “Actually, from what they told me Adar had to show he was worthy of Ada.”

King Tuon snorted but his features softened a little, “I was a warrior and he was a Prince. His parents weren’t that happy with our union. However, we had started a bonding process way before we even consummate our relationship.”

“Adar was a great warrior, brave and ruthless, the best in all Rhûn and the Kingdom of Dorwinion.” It was obvious Thúlon was quite proud of his father, he puffed out his chest while speaking. “Ada was a great Prince with all the right answers; he argued with grandfather telling him he had chosen Adar and there was nothing grandfather or grandmother could do.”

Thorin softened a little hearing this story, he felt a sharp pain of discomfort on his chest but merely rubbed it over his clothes while still watching at the King and his son. Tuon rolled his eyes leaning forward grabbing his cup of tea.

“Thúlon made it sound really heroic, but it was a long process.” The King took a sip from his cup and then turned bright eyes to Thorin. “Still, I believe you will agree with me that the bonding and joining with your partner is something worth fighting for.”

The King glanced at Thranduil then at Thorin, the Dwarven-Prince felt the tip of his ears burn a little knowing Tuon was right. Whatever this trip was, it was worth every single minute so long he could be beside Thranduil and the both of them got to where they were now. No more secrets, no more hiding, just enjoying the fact there was love between them. Thorin glanced at Thranduil but the Elven-Prince was suddenly tensed. Thorin furrowed his brows sneaking his hand to grab the elf’s hand on his own. Thranduil stirred surprised his blue eyes fell upon their joined hands then turning to those black orbs. He had the words on his mouth, he was about to say something but Thorin turned and asked yet another question.

“I apologized for my forwardness but, were you the one carrying Thúlon then?” Thorin questioned again, King Tuon opened his eyes laughing a little.

“No, no. I’m a male alpha, I just…contribute with the creation of new life.” King Tuon said rather embarrassed. “It was King Erumion the one carrying him.”

Thranduil tensed again he lifted his eyes to stop Thúlon, but the young elf was far to excite explaining things to Thorin to pay attention to the Elven-Prince.

“Ada, I mean, King Erumion was the one to give me birth. You must have seen the signs of my birth on his abdomen.” Thúlon explained while drawing an invisible line right where his bellybutton was downwards. "All omega males that had carried life inside them had the line, it is the only wound that never heals and cannot be concealed."

Thorin stiffened while his mind worked on this new information, he remembered then this was the question he meant to ask King Erumion. He remembered then this wasn’t the first time he saw such a marking, this scar was the same one imprinted on Thranduil.  Understanding reached Thorin’s mind and he felt Thranduil squeezing his hand begging with his mind for Thorin to look at him.

And, when Thorin turned still quite confused and skeptical to Thranduil something else registered his mind.

 _Ada_.

Thorin could recall the few times he heard the same word coming from Legolas lips to address Thranduil. The Dwarven-Prince couldn’t comprehend how he hadn’t noticed this before, how he could not join the dots of this obvious puzzle. It took a ride under the sun and this sudden meeting for him to think about it! Thorin felt an unpleasant oppression on his heart, he tilted his head and his eyes soon found those blue orbs of the Elven-Prince. Thranduil could read the question behind Thorin’s eyes, he never thought Thorin to be an idiot, but he certainly wasn’t expecting for the dwarf to work something like this so soon, so suddenly. Much less after their brief moment of happiness.

“I don’t understand why do you call him _Ada_ if he is your father?” Thorin took his eyes off of Thranduil to see Thúlon furrowing his brows in confusion.  “I always thought that was the elvish word for brother.”

Thúlon shook his head, “No, _Astalder,_ Ada or Adar means _father_ or _dad_ in elvish _._ ”

Thranduil locked his eyes with Thorin’s ones, the Elven-Prince swallowed when he saw those black eyes changed into anger and betrayal. The Elven-Prince opened his mouth to explain, to say something but, at that moment, one of the elven warriors entered the tent breaking the tension around them.

“My Lord, Lord Dáin has awakened and is asking for you.”

“Of course.” Thorin clenched his fists taking his hand away from Thranduil’s one. 

Thorin shot one last angered stare to Thranduil before standing up and leaving the tent. Thorin didn’t even turn to see Thranduil who stayed where he was still thinking about those eyes filled with betrayal and anger, Thranduil clenched his fist finding himself foolish for his own cowardice. The Elven-Prince turned to the entrance of the tent with his heart shaking with regret and pain.

*****

It took him some time but, in the end, Thranduil went after Thorin.

The Elven-Prince strolled directly to the healer’s tent where he was stopped for a second, King Tuon nodded to his warriors and Prince Thranduil was allowed inside the tent where Lord Dáin was resting. King Tuon gave him a sympathetic smile while Thranduil tried to approach Thorin. Even at such a distance and with Thorin speaking with Dáin, he could still feel the anger coming from Thorin. But most of all, he felt the sorrow and disappointment.

Thorin tensed glancing out of the corner of his eyes to the Elven-Prince; Dáin was still too distracted to notice the presence of the elf.  

“…They continued with this for two nights. We couldn’t get them all, but we did trap one of those scumbags.” Dáin was speaking tiredly, as if the mere action consumed too much energy.

The Dwarven-Prince returned his attention to Dáin with his mind a myriad of thoughts and emotions, he was trying to hold onto something firm with the ability to make him forget about Thranduil, and about his feelings for him and to make him forget about the mess he was in.

“The only thing we could get from the fucker was that he was looking for something made of gold.” Dáin said in a mere whisper, his brows furrowing as the memories filled his mind. “He said they were looking for it… _something made of gold…_ ”

“Who said it? What else did he say?” Thranduil approached the bed forgetting for an instant whatever was happening between him and Thorin.

Thorin blinked and Dáin lifted his eyebrows with his eyes focusing on the Elven-Prince, Dáin coughed a little waving his hand until the healer brought a glass of water to his lips.

“You.” Dáin said roughly almost smirking. “If it wasn’t because I’m feeling like shit right now I would say I’m in heaven with so much beauty surrounding me.”

Thranduil rolled his eyes, Thorin scowled and the healer made a sound of disapproval while giving some more water to Dáin. Thranduil tried to speak again but soon Dáin had closed his eyes, the Elven-Prince turned to the healer but the elf shook his head.

“He is still tired. And he is stubborn. Let him rest, he will wake later and then you can ask him.”

_Something made of gold…_

Thranduil stood up turning to face Thorin only to realize he wasn’t there, something inside Thranduil shifted painfully. He clenched his jaw shooting Dáin one last glance before going outside the tent, every warrior was moving around getting ready as the night covered the desert. His eyes found without any difficulty the form of Thorin who was suddenly very much engaged in an enrage battle with a tree. Thranduil didn’t need to open his link with the dwarf to feel how displeased he was, to see just how stress and overwhelmed Thorin seemed. Thranduil didn’t know how long he was there, but he soon walked away to a more seclude part of the oasis. Thúlon shoot a quick stare to the elf but his father stopped him with a gesture of his hand. The young Elven-Prince furrowed his brow not really understanding what was happening.

“Write to your father.” King Tuon said. “The messenger must leave tonight and in there you will tell him what Lord Dáin said.”

“What does it mean, though?” Thúlon questioned puzzle. “You and Prince Thranduil seemed about ready to faint.”

Tuon took on a serious semblance, his eyes turning to the tent where Dáin was still resting. He then turned to his son.

“It means you have to write the letter and then send the messenger on his way. Until I know more about this, it would be better if you just don’t know much about it.” Thúlon opened his mouth to protest but he soon closed it, he turned around and went to obey his father’s orders.

*****

Thranduil didn’t know how long he was there.

His back against a tree, his face lifted to the sky. The cold breeze of the night brushing his skin, while his mind sort out gloomy thoughts. He felt him even before he could hear him. His warm had become familiar; it was comforting feeling the tender touch of Thorin’s presence coming his way. His heart beat in anticipation, his abdomen filled with an excited tingling making him unease; Thranduil stiffened with his arms at his sides and his fist clenched tightly.

Thorin stood right beside him, leaning against the tree with his arms crossed.

“Is he your son?” Thorin spoke harshly, coldly and he almost regretted his tone when he saw Thranduil winced.

“He is.” Thranduil said softly not daring to look at Thorin, afraid of what he might find in those eyes.

He could take the harshness behind Thorin’s voice but he was certain he would break if he were to see nothing in those black eyes of his. Thorin shifted clenching his jaw at how foolish he was, at how everything regarding Thranduil usually ended up being a complete mess for him. Thorin tried to speak but couldn’t; he felt hurt and he knew it was ridiculous because really a few months ago he could not care less for the elf sitting on the ground.

_Liar._

His traitorous mind whispered, Thorin had felt something for Thranduil on their first meeting all those years ago in the forest. But it wasn't until he got to really talk to him and deal with him that Thorin actually developed a romantic interest in him. Thorin grumbled shifting slightly stepping forward a little. He lifted his face to the sky and his eyes fell upon the same star Thranduil had been admiring a moment ago. The night was silent with only three torches around the camp. Everyone else was either resting or on guard duty.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Were you planning on laugh at me behind my back? Did you think I was too stupid to notice? Or were you waiting for the right time to kill me and get your son on the throne of my people?! ” Thorin turned rather enrage to face Thranduil and he almost broke his cold façade to take Thranduil in his arms.

The Elven-Prince looked tired, his eyes were gleaming with unshed tears and sorrow was evident in his face. Even with his obvious signs of distress, Thranduil tried to look as regal and as uncaring as possible. He tried to get some kind of control of the situation because he refused to let his heart and soul drowned in this overwhelming feeling of desperation. He did not desperate even when each and every word hurt him and cut him just a little deeper.

“Why should I?” Thranduil asked and he hated the slightly tremble in his voice.  “We were meant to marry for the greater good of our Kingdoms, Thorin. Our marriage was going to be the perfect façade for whatever it was our fathers were thinking of doing. What we’re doing was not part of their plan.”

“I think falling in love with you wasn’t part of the plan either.” Thorin grumbled with his eyes on Thranduil, the Elven-Prince stared back nodding tiredly.

“I know falling in love with you was never the plan, I know what is going on between us is not part of anyone’s plan and yet, it is happening.” Thranduil replied softly, tiredly.

“Was hiding Legolas as your brother part of the plan as well?” Thorin grumbled looking away.

“My father has always been ashamed of my weakness.” Thranduil commented rather coldly. “Legolas has always been a secret, Prince Thorin. He is my brother to the world, but to me he is and always has been my son. Even if I have to carry with the pain of keeping him conceal.”

“Why? Why is he a shame?” Thorin asked and suddenly the Dwarven-Prince felt a burning need to know if Legolas was Bard’s or Haldir’s son.

“Because a Prince should never pledge himself to a lowly class warrior like Haldir was.” Thranduil finally said.  

 “So, Bard is not the father?” Thorin almost cringed at how stupid the question was, he glanced at Thranduil and the Elven-Prince was slightly shocked by this. Thranduil opened his mouth but nothing came, Thorin then faced him lifting his chin with something strange gleaming in his eyes.

“He is not…I never…” Here Thranduil trailed off feeling embarrassed all of a sudden. “I was always on top whenever I was with Bard. I never let him have the control.”

Thorin scowled deeply at this, he narrowed his eyes leaning closer, “Are you serious? You never let Bard in?”

Thranduil rolled his eyes at the wording of the question, his heart skipped a beat and his lips almost curled in a smile, “No, never.”

“Why?” Thorin asked hearing the thumping of his heart, feeling the numbness of his soul and the sudden excitement in his mind. Thranduil stared at Thorin softening.

“He had feelings for me; I couldn’t risk the chance of a pregnancy of some sort.” Thranduil replied. “Haldir is Legolas father. He and you are the only ones I have allowed control over me in such a way.”

“And you…you risk yourself with me?” Thorin asked still trying to grasp the idea of how the elve’s body work.

Thranduil felt his cheeks burn slightly, “I did.”

“Why?” Thorin asked and this earned him a glare from Thranduil.

“Why do you think? Because I feel you here.” Thranduil placed his hand to his chest, his jaw trembling and his eyes gleaming brightly. “I’ve been feeling you here for a long time, Thorin and I will give you everything even if that means I will have to live with your anger and resentment all my life.”

Thorin looked taken aback, his features fell into an understanding and he approached Thranduil slowly.

“I could never resent you.” Thorin said. “I could be angry with you but never forever. You…”

Thorin closed his mouth leaning in to press his lips against Thranduil’s; they kissed softly molding their lips together while trying to reassure one another through the brushing of their lips.  When they parted, Thorin rest his forehead against the elf’s one. Thorin opened his eyes but Thranduil kept his closed.

“It was never my intention to keep him secret. I wanted to tell you, I was about to tell you before this…” Thranduil whispered with his hands firmly placed at the nape of Thorin’s neck.

“We really are messing up with whatever plan our fathers have for us.” Thorin finally said cupping Thranduil’s face in his hands. “And you…damn the heavens; you just have to smile at me for me to forgive you.”

Thranduil couldn’t help but smile at this; he opened his eyes only to close them again when he felt Thorin kissing him again.  When they parted again Thorin sat down beside Thranduil letting the Elven-Prince to grab his hand to keep the contact between them.

“Is there anything else I should know about you? About us? About Legolas?” Thorin inquired sensing just the way Thranduil shifted.

“All you need to know about me is that I’ve been falling in love with you for quite some time, that we are starting a bonding process that usually happens to couples that had been beside one another after several centuries.” Thranduil spoke softly glancing at Thorin who was still quite processing this information.

“What kind of bond? What does it mean for me?”

“You will be able to sense me, to feel me.” Thranduil explained. “There will be a moment in which we will even be able to hear what the other thinks.”

Thorin swallowed quite unsure about the bond, he lowered his gaze to their joined hands and all he could feel was peace and a subtle wave of wonderment along with a silent request for forgiveness. He understood right there and then whenever he felt these strange emotions inside him, emotions he sometimes didn’t know he was feeling it had been Thranduil the one feeling them first. The Dwarven-Prince snorted shaking his head while lifting Thranduil’s hand to his mouth; he kissed those knuckles while staring at Thranduil.

“I’m still angry at you. I still feel disappointed and upset.” Thorin said but before Thranduil could back away Thorin tried to reassure him. “But, even if I feel like this it doesn't mean I do not want to understand or that I do not want to know why. I'm not unreasonable, my anger is still there but my love for you is greater. I want to hear your part for the story, the part in which you will share Legolas with me, if you so desire it.”

Thorin lowered their joined hands, he then fidgeted around until he was on his back with his head on Thranduil’s lap and his eyes staring at the sky. Their hands always joined. The Elven-Prince was quite baffled by this, never before had he found himself in such a strange situation. But, then again, never before had he found himself under the spell of such an extraordinary being as Prince Thorin Oakenshield.

Thorin seemed to shift his eyes left and right, joining the stars in his mind with Thranduil still staring at him. The Elven-Prince smiled feeling a single tear rolled down his cheek. 

"I want to tell you." Thranduil finally said and with this he started speaking.

Thranduil smiled a little, his heart trembling under his current situation. He allowed his hand a swift cares of those dark locks while lifting his head to the sky. At first, he thought it was going to be difficult to talk about it. But, as he narrated the events that had lead him to meet with Haldir and how hierarchy mattered in Mirkwood and some other Elven Realms, Thranduil realized it was easier to tell his story. He told Thorin about finding out about Legolas, how Thranduil's mother had gone to bring Haldir back when they found out about the baby, only for the both of them to be killed on the road. He told Thorin his father was deeply ashamed when he realized Thranduil had gone against his wishes and now he was with child. Legolas would be born but he would never be raised by Thranduil, instead he would grow believing Thranduil was his brother until the time was right. Thorin had been horrified finding out about this, realizing Thranduil had not been allowed to be near his son until he was fifteen and, as the story progressed Thorin tried to reassure Thranduil the best way he could until. in the end, he fall asleep with the stars above his head and Thranduil's voice lulling him to sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well?  
> What do you think?  
> I was hoping for all of you to get a glimpse of what was happening around the world while Thorin and Thranduil have this time for them. Now they will be back and the world may have some surprises for them. Regarding the part of the White Council and Oropher I decided to mix up the movie canon and the Tolkien canon, also I know I read somewhere one of the theories about the relationship between Oropher and Celeborn was that they were brothers. I thought it was a good idea so I'm using it.  
> Also, Oropher really loves Thranduil but he does have some prejudices regarding omega elves and the status of the different elves to join in matrimony. This make me think about Elven biology and how different it would be for them to procreate, they have biology for this (omega and alpha and even beta) but elves are being govern by two things fëa and Hröa, when I thought about them creating life I thought it was important this two things were highly connected so, elves have to have some kind of emotional attachment as well as a physical one with their partner. This is why Thranduil didn't allow Bard inside him, because Bard has emotional attachments to him and Thranduil fear this would be enough for getting pregnant. 
> 
> He didn't care with Thorin,though ;) 
> 
> And Thorin, of course, is quite smug and happy about this.
> 
> Next chapter some sexy times in Khand before they go back to Erebor, the signs of war are finally there, King Thráin goes mad finding out his son is alive and the Greenstone clan will make sure Thorin never gets back to Erebor alive.


	16. Under the Shadow of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin and Thranduil are back to a world where war is about to start, both Princes have to make serious decisions about their futures but, before this, they decided to have a moment of peace and love...like some people said, the calm usually comes before the storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I want to thank you guys for your patience! It's been a really busy time for me what with university and all. But I got this two weeks to write and I bring you the new chapter of the story. I want to thank you for the comments, the kudos, the bookmarks and for reading the story.
> 
> I hope you like this chapter, I have a little attempt at some little smut for you and some troubles ahead of our beloved couple.
> 
> I apologize for the grammar, spelling and general mistakes you may find, remember English isn't my native tongue. Thanks!
> 
> Ernil: Prince (sindarin) according to the elfdict.com  
> Tenna' san': Until then (grey-company.org)  
> Tenna' ento lye omenta: Until next we meet (grey-company.org)  
> Aa' menle nauva calen ar' ta hwesta e' ale'quenle: May thy paths be green and the breeze on thy back (grey-company.org)  
> Le fael: Thank you (arwen-undomiel.com)

**Chapter 16**

**Under the shadow of war**

Time seemed to stand still.

His eyes, always sharp and keen, could only see the great extension of the desert, the yellow-ish dunes and the loneliness surrounding them. There was only the sand, the wind and the unmerciful sun burning the terrain right in front of his eyes, with a dry wind touching his skin and the shadow of the tree protecting him from the sun, Thranduil contemplated the vast length of the desert before him.  

Everything was so still, so silent.

Thranduil stepped forward feeling the burning sensation of the sun on his white, smooth skin. His clear eyes looking down on his naked arms with the wind scratching the softness of his skin while the heat of the day started prickling his skin; Thranduil furrowed his brows while his heart shrank under the worries plaguing his mind, the words of Dáin Ironfoot still fresh on his mind and the events surrounding their current situation were enough to keep him worry.  A sound coming from behind him called his attention, the elf didn’t turn however, he stood still with his ears twitching trying to catch up the sounds of heavy footsteps coming his way. Thranduil didn’t need to turn to know it wasn’t Thorin and he couldn’t help the wave of disappointment filling up his soul.

“Shouldn’t you be resting, Lord Dáin? The journey ahead of us is a long one, you will need the rest.” Thranduil commented without turning around.

The dwarf snorted positioning himself right beside Thranduil crossing his arms while looking around before settling his dark eyes on the elf.

“Is that a proposal, elf? Gonna tug me in?”

Thranduil rolled his eyes, “In your dreams, Lord Dáin.”

Dáin decided it was the perfect time to show him one of his most alluring smiles, “You do more than that in my dreams, elf.”

Thranduil shot Dáin an angered stare, quirking a brow unimpressed. Dáin faced Thranduil before shaking his head boringly.

“This is more fun when Thorin is around.” Dáin finally said.

“Yes, I could tell you were having a lot of fun by making Thorin angry back in the tent.” Thranduil replied dryly turning his attention back to the desert.

Dáin narrowed his eyes with his attention on Thranduil, the dwarf turned around and made his way to the protective shade of the tree without walking to far away from Thranduil. The Elven-Prince could feel Dáin watching him with intensity, there was something behind this sudden visit from Dáin when not even Thorin had come close to him. Thorin. The Dwarf had been firmed on his anger, he was still mad at Thranduil and the elf was starting to feel the lack of attention and closeness he had shared in the last couple of days with the Dwarven-Prince.

“Hn, none of it shouldn’t be a problem for him, unless there are problems between you both already.” Dáin scratched his chin shooting Thranduil a knowing stare. “Kinda surprising you both last so long, what was it?”

Thranduil tensed turning to face Dáin with his full height projecting a shadow mixing up with that of the trees in the oasis. Dáin didn’t flinch but faced Thranduil with the same determination and boldness as the elf.

“I do not see how this is any of your business, Lord Dáin.” Thranduil commented coldly.

“Thorin is my family.” Dáin replied. “I don’t know about you elves but we Dwarrows protect our own.”

Thranduil pursed his lips looking away from Dáin with his eyes fixated on the blue sky, a single eagle flying deep into the sky, almost invisible even for the elf’s eyes. The Elven-Prince shifted slightly feeling the weight of Dáin’s attention on him.

“This is something we share then, Lord Dáin. I’ll do anything for my family.” Thranduil spoke rather coldly, his eyes gleaming dangerously at the amused and defiant Dáin. “Even lie to those we love.”

Dáin quirked a brow, he didn’t think Thranduil would say anything about the sudden tension between himself and Thorin. The Lord of the Iron Hills nodded tilting his head while contemplating the elf.

“You have more than hundredth years.” Dáin commented lightly. “You must have more than one secret under your sleeve, there are even rumors surrounding you.”

Thranduil clenched his jaw, “Rumors started by someone who couldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. My secrets, Lord Dáin, are my own I don’t own anyone an explanation of them.”

Dáin was staring at Thranduil thoughtfully wondering how Thranduil could be so angered and, at the same time, so calm. There was something rather disagreeable of elves being always cold and compose when angered. Dáin then stepped forward scratching his chin while eyeing Thranduil with a glint of interested in his eyes.

“No need to get all work up, Prince Thranduil. I’m merely telling you what I think and I’ve heard.” Dáin waved his hand cutting off whatever reply Thranduil might have. “I imagine you have more than one enemy. Your beauty as well as your position must be your curse.”

Thranduil raised a brow following the dwarf with his eyes; this had to be the strangest conversation he had ever had with a dwarf.

“If I thought you to be easy to bed or to submit well, let’s say I would have fucked you a long time ago.” Dáin wiggled his eyebrows leering at Thranduil who scowled deeply.

“As if I was to lower myself with someone like you.” Thranduil replied with a hint of annoyance and exasperation in his voice.

“Oh, I can be very persuasive.” Dáin nodded smiling a little. “Besides, you did lower yourself by bedding Thorin…”

“Please, tell me you’re not comparing yourself with Thorin.” Thranduil retorted with a hint of coldness in his voice, his whole posture changing into a more tensed one. “Thorin is different.”

Thranduil trailed off noticing the strange way in which Dáin was looking at him; if he had paid more attention to what he was saying and how he was acting Thranduil would have noticed just how protective was he of Thorin. How tender he sounded when speaking about the Dwarven-Prince. Dáin noticed it, and he was pleased to discover Thranduil was not just playing around.

“Good answer, Prince Thranduil.” Thranduil furrowed his brows in confusion; Dáin merely shook his head going back to the protective shade of the trees. “Humph, when I heard Uncle wanted to marry Thorin to an elf, I thought it was a joke. Something to make Thorin even more miserable. Now, I realized this plan of his has backfired.”

“Why would you think something like this?” Thranduil inquired stepping forward until he too was under the shadows projected by the trees.

Dáin frowned deeply looking back to the elven camp but finding themselves alone in the small space.

“I know, by now, you must have noticed Thorin is not appreciated by King Thráin.” Dáin waited until Thranduil nodded before continuing. “What you told me about the attack, about this trip…I feel unease.”

Thranduil narrowed his eyes with his thoughts about Dáin changing slowly. At first, Thranduil thought Dáin to be a brute, obstinate, rude and rather annoying dwarf. He didn’t think him smart but, watching him now, hearing him speak made him think he had misjudged Thorin’s cousin. Not his fault, though, Dáin was a misleading jerk, but still a jerk.

“Before Uncle announced your engagement, I found him speaking with the leader of the Greenstone Clan.” Dáin commented softly. “I didn’t think much of it until…”

“You can’t be suggesting King Thráin try to…” Thranduil trailed off when Dáin turned to him with a strange seriousness.

“I’m not suggesting anything, Prince Thranduil.” Dáin sighed tiredly. “I’m just speaking of the troubles and the shadows filling up my heart and my mind. After my encounter with these orcs in such faraway lands, I have no doubt that the dark clouds of war are coming upon us. My question is, why? Why Erebor? Why now?”

“My, Lord Dáin, I didn’t know you have such a sharp mind.” Thranduil smirked enjoying the sudden twitched in the right eyebrow of the dwarf. “I must say the race of Durín surprises me each day.”

Dáin snorted grumbling a little, “Great, I didn’t know elves have a sense of humor.”

Silence fell between them; Thranduil couldn’t help but feel the sharp absence of Thorin deep inside his heart. He lifted his eyes waiting to find the Dwarven-Prince but finding he was still alone with Dáin. The Elven-Prince lowered his eyes to Dáin while returning to their conversation, his mind moving quite distressed.

“I cannot answer your questions, Lord Dáin, although I have my suspicions.” Thranduil spoke suddenly with his voice firm and his eyes on Dáin. “I do share your concerns and, I’m afraid, I cannot be certain of anything until I speak with my father and Glorfindel and confronted the leader of this Clan.”

Dáin pursed his lips shifting a little, “I guess here in the middle of nowhere there is nothing we can do. However, I believe we should deal with these concerns once we go back to Khand.”

 “It seems we do need to know what’s been going on since we left.”

“There is something else I like to discuss with you.” Thranduil shot a curious glance at the dwarf, Dáin made some faces before speaking again. “Thorin…if your hurt him, I’ll hurt you.”

Thranduil was tempted to laugh; he could see how uncomfortable Dáin was while saying this. The Elven-Prince snorted nodding gracefully at the Lord of the Iron Hills.

“Do not worry yourself, Lord Dáin.” Thranduil replied with honesty tingeing his voice. “I could never hurt Thorin. “

Dáin nodded curtly placing his right hand on the hammer resting on his hip, “I surely hope so, lad. I can shake this stupid feeling that Thorin is going to need you soon enough.”

*****

The night had fallen faster than any of them expected.

The tension in the air was evident but no one could tell if this was due to the dark news shared by Dáin, the news coming from Khand and Dorwinion or if it was something Thorin and Thranduil were feeling altogether. King Tuon made sure everything was prepared for the journey, they would go back with an escort of elven warriors directly to the harbor were, apparently, Bofur along with some other dwarves were waiting for Thorin and Thranduil. The Elven-Prince watched from afar as Thorin spoke animatedly with Thúlon, he tried to ignore the piercing pain in his heart for it was foolish to even feel this sort of envy or longing for Thorin as if they weren’t already joined in one destiny. But Thranduil knew it was more than simply jealousy, he felt the absence of Thorin who usually was right beside him paying attention to him. Thranduil straightened up placing his sword on the belt around his waist; he fixed his clothes while caressing the soft fur of his ride. His hair was falling around his face covering the worry lines around his eyes, the Elven-Prince tried to quiet down his thoughts and worries aware this would be the trip back to their home.

Thranduil lifted his face admiring the stars covering the sky, his ears twitched hearing everyone shouting the last arrangements and getting ready to go. His attention was soon caught by Dáin who was arguing about the wisdom of mounting such huge beast; he was shaking his head pointing at the camel then at the desert.

“There he goes again, arguing with everyone.” Thranduil tensed hearing Thorin right behind him.

“He seems to enjoy it.” Thranduil responded turning around to face Thorin, the Dwarven-Prince was looking with a hint of warm in his eyes. But even like this, Thranduil could tell Thorin was still upset with him.

“He likes getting on everyone’s nerves.” Thorin approached Thranduil tilting his head to the right. “Your scar…”

Thranduil tried to turn his face away but Thorin stopped him with a gesture of his hand, Thranduil smiled softly feeling the warm of Thorin’s hand wrapping around his. The Elven-Prince leaned forward with just a hint of apology in his eyes while his lips drawn an amused smile.

“The offer of the stool or a box is still there, you know?” Thranduil commented lightly enjoying the fact Thorin was trying to hold back his smile.

Thorin let his black eyes wander around the healing scar, he cursed his height but blessed his luck when Thranduil leaned in and he could touch the face of the Elven-Prince. He was tender, caressing the scar carefully while looking deeply into Thranduil’s eyes.

“I think we should go now.” Thorin finally said after a long silence, Thranduil nodded straightening up and jumping right on top of his ride.

Thorin watched the gracefulness with which Thranduil moved, he eyed their mount warily before his eyes fell upon the stretch arm of Thranduil. The Elven-Prince quirked a brow daring Thorin to approach, Thorin smiled this time around taking the offered hand and going on the camel right in front of Thranduil.

“Are you still mad?” The question caught Thorin by surprise, the warm breath of the elf in his ear almost made him fall of the mount.

Thorin tilted his head realizing Thranduil was dangerously close to him, his mind was screaming at him reminding him of the lies whereas his heart was telling him to give in. It had been so long since they had shared a kiss and Thranduil’s closeness paired with the memories of their night and morning together was getting him anxious.

“I am.” Thorin finally said hating the hint of sadness crossing those blue eyes. “But, it will pass. Do not concern yourself with this, Thranduil. I don’t love you any less.”

“But you can’t help holding this against me.” Thranduil retorted he found himself surprised when Thorin wrapped his hand around his bringing it to his lips. The beard tickled his sensitive skin and Thranduil was reminded of his heat and his ranging emotions for the dwarf.

“I’m not holding anything against you, I just…” Thorin trailed off shifting a little in frustration. Thranduil waited patiently, he could feel the different emotions coming from Thorin until the dwarf finally spoke and Thranduil was caught off guard. “Look, it’s ridiculous but I just want to be…that our kid would be our first one.”

Thorin shifted embarrassed, he was scowling deeply while looking ahead of them. No one seemed to be paying any attention to them as the caravan started riding out of the oasis into the desert. Thranduil was left speechless for quite some time, he looked around to see everyone focused on the road and not on them, though he could swear he heard Dáin snickering and Thúlon glancing back at them with curiosity. Thorin was still rather embarrassed by his confession, he was tensed trying to ignored the elf right behind him, so close he could feel him on his back.

“I didn’t know it was so important to you.” Thranduil finally said leaning in, Thorin jerked away glaring back at Thranduil who was blinking innocently at him.

“Don’t do that.” Thorin grumbled Thranduil arched a brow leaning in until his lips were closed to the dwarf’s ear.

“What?” Thranduil spoke softly again and Thorin tightened his hold on the elf’s hand.

“That. Don’t speak so close to my ear.” Thorin narrowed his eyes when Thranduil smirked.

“Oh? Why is that? Don’t you like it?” Thranduil whispered again and Thorin shivered a little, Thranduil’s smirk grew as he made sure he was still close to Thorin’s ear. “Or, could it be, you like it too much?”

Thorin squirmed trying to move away and almost falling off the camel, Thranduil snickered while Thorin glared at him.

“I’m still mad at you.” Thorin commented evading the last question, his eyes found those of Thranduil and something inside him softened.

“I’m aware of this, Prince Thorin.” Thranduil replied formally. “I simply do not care. As adorable as your anger seems to be, I am not one to wait patiently for you to stop moping around.”

“I’m not adorable and I’m certainly not moping.” Thorin replied not without showing the horror the term adorable brought to him.

Thranduil tilted his head smirking showing off his withe teeth and gleaming blue eyes, “Of course. What I am trying to say is that…your concerns are not ridiculous, although your lasting anger is. Whatever child comes from our union would be our first one and, as ridiculous as it may sound, he or she is going to be born out of love and our bonding.”

“It does sound ridiculous.” Thorin replied holding back his smile, he didn’t know when their conversation had turned into a meaningful nonsense.

Thranduil nodded leaning in, “I understand, though. I know what you mean and I know why you’re upset by it. But, Thorin…”

Thorin shook his head not letting Thranduil finish, “Don’t. I get it. I really do. I was mad at you lying about Legolas but, I get it.”

“So, are you still mad?” Thranduil asked again, Thorin rolled his eyes shaking his head.

“I’m starting to think you like to get away with whatever it is you want.” Thorin never saw the smug smile adorning the elven features of his lover, though he could tell Thranduil was feeling highly satisfied.

The night kept advancing.

There was only darkness broke by the silver light of the moon project on the sand, everything seemed to change in the midst of darkness with shadows lurking and dancing around the travelers while the not sound could be heard around them. If it wasn’t for the stars, Thranduil wasn’t sure he could tell where the earth ended and the sky began; his sharp eyes were trying to see something familiar or threatening but Thranduil soon found out even his eyes seemed useless if the moon wasn’t helping with the process. But, even if the Elven-Prince couldn’t see beyond the caravan he could see his companions and even sense the growing tension among them. Everyone was highly alert to their surroundings while conversation was done in hush whispers; King Tuon was commanding the caravan dressed for a long excursion in the desert. Thorin knew the King had gotten some news from Dorwinion and from the Dwarven harbor; in addition, the early conversation they had maintained with Dáin had left the King and even Thranduil with a hint of concern in their eyes. The Dwarven-Prince stared at the darkened sky furrowing his brows at the sight of numerous twinkling stars above his head, the breeze of the night was cold on their skins but the warm Thranduil provided was all Thorin needed.

“The desert looks different during the night.” Thranduil broke the silence looking around before settling his eyes on Thúlon who had slowed his ride to go beside them. “It looks more dangerous, if that’s possible.”

“If you don’t know where you’re going it is possible to get lost.” Thúlon commented seriously. “It is cold and the moon is not usually our companion. The desert changes form during the night.”

Thranduil tilted his head with his attention firmly place in the King who was riding ahead of them, apparently, without paying any mind to their conversation.

“Then, why ride during the night?” It was Thorin the one to break the silence this time around, the Dwarven-Prince turned to Thúlon.

“It is safer, in a way.” Thúlon replied then his expression change and Thorin had to wonder if the young elf really knew the answer to his question. “But, to be quite honest, I don’t know. Father thought it was wiser and thus we’re following his lead. He has been doing this far longer than me, and most of the warriors.”

“Just the elves of the desert can see in this damn darkness.” Dáin said loudly. “I bet your fairy sprout can’t see a thing.”

“I hate your cousin.” Thranduil mumbled but Thorin merely chuckled.

“And, if the honorable Prince Thrandy can’t see a thing, orcs probably can’t see a thing either.” Dáin turned slightly winking at Thranduil.

“Charming, like always.” Thranduil mumbled rolling his eyes.

“But, he is right.” Thúlon continued. “If you don’t know the desert and you’re eyes are not used to this kind of darkness getting lost can be quite easy.”

Thorin shifted uncomfortably the mere thought of getting lost didn’t suit him one bit. He looked around for the very first time aware he could not see beyond the people surrounding him. He could see the moon and sometimes the silver light reflected on the dunes, but nothing else. His respect for the elves of the desert grew as they kept walking in a straight line apparently without losing their way. The rest of the ride was done in between small conversation; the atmosphere around the travelers seemed to be more relaxed even if there was still some underlying anxiousness.

The moon was at its highest point when the travelers caught a couple of lights in the distance. King Tuon made them stop his eyes narrowing slightly while he observed the twinkling yellow and red coming from the lights, with a single gesture of his hand two of his warriors dismounted their camels and left running straight ahead until they got lost in the darkness.

“What is it?” Thorin leaned forward narrowing his eyes a little.

“Lights ahead.” Thranduil replied seriously. “But, aren’t we close to the harbor? You said it was a few hours away from the oasis and we left as soon as darkness covered the land.”

Thúlon nodded briefly but it was King Tuon the one to answer, he turned around to the rest of the company.

“Yes, we’re close. In fact, the harbor is located down this road. However, and after what Lord Dáin revealed to us we can never be too cautious.” King Tuon rested his hands on top of his saddle glancing at Thranduil. “Don’t worry, my Lords. I promise you I will keep you save and bring you to the harbor and that’s what I’m going to do.”

“I would never doubt your word, King Tuon.” Thranduil replied smiling slightly.

Thorin shifted turning to stare at Thranduil with a little creased of his brows, “Is there something you aren’t sharing?”

Thranduil quirked a brow at the dwarf, his lips curving up while his sharp fangs made his smile that more mocking and dangerous. The Dwarven-Prince stirred a little ready to turn around but was pleasantly surprised to find himself tasting the sweet flavour that was pure Thranduil. It still caught Thorin off guard; he straightened himself feeling his lips tingling and his heart beating faster. The Elven-Prince smiled softly but his eyes were still focused on the yellow-ish lights, his eyes soon finding the lookouts that were coming with their bows on their hands.

“My Lord, the dwarves of Khand are waiting there.” One of the elves said. “The way is free for us to cross.”

King Tuon nodded curtly tilting his head to look back at the Princes and Dáin, “Well, my Lords, we did it. Let’s hurry up, no more time to lose and I bet our distinguish guests would like a good rest.”

*****

“THORIN!”

Thorin found himself wrapped in a tight embrace with Bofur mumbling nonsense, the Dwarven-Prince looked up to see Thranduil smiling amusedly while everyone around them seemed to be in high alert attending to the elves and fixing everything for the departure of the newcomers. Bofur put a distance between himself and Thorin, narrowing his eyes he took in the prince before turning to Thranduil.

“My dear prince Thranduil, I would hug you if I know it wouldn’t be awkward and Thorin wouldn’t glare at me.” Bofur smiled smugly when Thorin pushed him playfully.

“I’m going to take this as a sign that you miss me as well, Bofur.” Thranduil commented seriously.

“You two don’t know how much.” Bofur said shaking his head while lifting his hand and putting his thumb and index finger really close without touching. “I was this close to find a nice, female companion when we found about the wreckage.”

“It’s good to know we were your priority.” Thorin replied with relief filling his heart.

There was a moment of silence in which Bofur seemed to be playing nervously with his hat, his eyes went to Thranduil, then to Thorin and finally to Dáin. The dwarf looked around watching as elves and dwarves worked together while some of them were resting, Thorin eyed Bofur for a moment before crossing his arms.

“What is it?” Thorin asked in a commanding voice, Bofur winced a little trying to smile.

“Something happened…” Bofur looked around then at Thorin. “It is rather complicated and I think it would be better if we discussed in private.”

Thorin shifted a little from one foot to the other, he glanced at Bofur with a hint of understanding in him. Thranduil tensed standing his full height beside Thorin with Dáin overlooking at the scene, it wasn’t until then both Princes and the Lord of Iron Hills realized they had been far away from home for far too long. For Thranduil it was obvious Bofur was trying to hide something, the dwarf had come to harbour armed, wearing a heavy armour and his eyes had lit up and shone in relief when they saw Thorin and the others approaching.

“ _Astalder!”_ Thúlon approached the group smiling a little with King Tuon closed behind. “Everything seems to be ready.”

Thorin gave Bofur one last glance before turning his attention to Thúlon, “Thank you, Thúlon. For everything.”

The young elf shook his head shooting a curious glance at Bofur, “There is nothing to thank, _Astalder_ , Prince Thranduil. It was our pleasure to help.”

“It was a complete event to have such personalities as yourself with us.” Tuon commented lightly. “Or so, Thúlon told me.”

“I do not know about it but I am thankful as well.” Thranduil placed his right hand to his chest bowing his head.

King Tuon returned the gesture fixating his eyes on Thranduil, “No need to be and, perhaps, next time you could come over without so many dark clouds above your heads and get to know Dorwinion.”

“It would be amazing, you know?” Thúlon intervened. “You only got to see a small portion of our land, perhaps next time you two can take advantage of everything my home has to offer.”

Bofur furrowed his brows strangely watching as Thorin suddenly was looking away rather bashful while Thranduil shoot a quick glance at Thorin smiling a little. Dáin snorted shaking his head.

“Yes, yes, next time we will send them back to you so they can keep fucking happily ever after.” Dáin waved his head completely unfazed by the glares coming from Thorin and Thranduil or the astonished stared coming from Bofur. “Now, if you don’t mind King Tuon, it is time for us to go. There is no rest for the wicked.”

Tuon laughed bowing his head at Dáin, “You will always be welcome as well, Lord Dáin. Please, do try to not get in such an uncomfortable situation next time and do not hesitate to ask for help.”

Dáin waved his hand, “Yes, yes, thank you as well. This will be highly rewarded. I’ll expect there won’t be a next time but if there is, I know I can ask for your help.”

“ _Astalder,_ Prince Thranduil please be careful.” Thúlon stood in front of both Princes with seriousness. “And, if you ever need our help, do not hesitate to ask for it.”

“ _Le fael, Ernil Thúlon.”_ Thranduil approached the young elf placing his hand on his right shoulder. “ _Aa' menle nauva calen ar' ta hwesta e' ale'quenle, Tenna' ento lye omenta_.”

“ _Tenna' san', Ernil Thranduil_.”  Thúlon returned the gesture with the same gentleness and pride in his voice.

Thranduil went to say his good-bye to Tuon while Thúlon turned to Thorin, the young elf seemed rather nervous eyeing the dwarf then back at Thranduil before focusing on Thorin.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Prince Thorin.”

“The pleasure was all mine, believe me.” Thorin replied. “Before this I wouldn’t have thought elves could be this pleasant to be around.”

Thúlon chuckled, “I’m glad we help you change your view of us.”

“Take good care, Thúlon, we will see each other again.” Thorin replied stretching his hand much like he had seen the mortal men do. Thúlon tilted his head rather confusedly before wrapping his right hand around Thorin’s forearm.

“Take good care, _Astalder._ May the stars will always shine on your path.” The young elf said stepping aside to allow Thorin and the other’s to join Thranduil and King Tuon.

The King eyed Thranduil while his son and Thorin spoke; he eyed the sky before settling his eyes on Thranduil. The night was pretty calm, advancing slowly but surely to the light of another day, the moon, bright and huge, rested above their heads while the sounds of elves and dwarves working around seemed to give them a sort of privacy in the harbor.

“I know you understand what is going on, Prince Thranduil.” King Tuon finally said. “There is a darkness approaching and, if what Lord Dáin said it’s true then something darker is brewing in this fortress of Dol-Guldur.”

Thranduil lifted his chin placing his left hand on top of the hilt of his sword, “It’s been quite a while since I heard about this.”

“I know.” King Tuon seemed sympathetic of the Prince. “It seems as if this was the only rest the both of you were going to get.”

Thranduil swallowed rather tersely feeling the burden of the situation in his heart, if he were to focus enough he could sense his worries mixing up with those of Thorin. The old fears plaguing Thranduil’s mind were back, those dark thoughts telling them his happiness was too expensive to really risk the rest of the world. The Elven-Prince closed his link with Thorin feeling immediately the cold absence of his soul.

Tuon furrowed his brows eyeing Thranduil for a moment, “You’re still in heat, are you not?”

Thranduil nodded curtly, “It is not a matter of concern, however as I took the right measures to stop any inconvenience.”

“Having a child is never an inconvenience.” Tuon replied narrowing his eyes at the sudden change in the Elven-Prince.

“In this kind of situation, it is. Besides, nothing else is going to happen from now on.” Thranduil commented firmly with just a hint of coldness in his voice. “Like you said, King Tuon, there is a darkness approaching and we should focus our energies on this rather than on menial desires.”

Tuon glanced at Thranduil for a long time, he smiled sadly before placing both of his hands on Thranduil’s shoulders. The Elven-Prince could feel his own discomfort and he could tell Thorin had his eyes on them, The King didn’t even flinch but lean over to make sure Thranduil was listening to his every word.

“When there is darkness, only light can sweep it away. I don’t know how or why but peace and happiness will come, Prince Thranduil.” Tuon took his hands away bowing his head respectfully. “You and Prince Thorin have an eternity to discover this but do not wait so long to give yourself a chance.”

Thranduil turned his head away while Thorin and the others approached them, the King then turned his attention to Thorin and Dáin stretching his arms.

“My dear Lords, I bid you farewell for now but please, if there is anything you need do not hesitate to ask.” King Tuon placed his right arm on his chest lowering his head slightly. “In the name of our King Erumion and the Kingdom of Dorwinion I give you the blessing of the Avari and hope for the light of the moon and the stars to always shine upon your heads.”

“King Tuon I don’t even know how to start to thank you and your people for all the kindness you have shown us.” Thorin expressed glancing at the King. “Likewise, if you ever need us, do not hesitate to call upon Erebor, we will answer. Thank you for everything, I wish I have more pretty words but I’m afraid we dwarves have little of those.”

King Tuon chuckled shaking his head, “Nonsense, Prince Thorin, your pretty words have an owner already. But don’t worry, we understand. Now, you should leave, your Kingdom awaits you.”

Dáin pushed Thorin ahead waving good bye and leaving with more colorful words that only made the elves laugh, Thorin furrowed his brows while he realized Thranduil was already going up the ship making him feel empty and cold. Thorin was about to walk faster when Bofur tapped him on the shoulder with a rather wicked smile adorning his features.

“So….You…you and Prince Thranduil…” Started Bofur rather baffled, Thorin lift his hand shaking his head.

“Not a word.” Thorin grumbled and Bofur lifted his arms in defence, his lips curling up.

“No, not all just…” Bofur looked around then at Thorin. “My Prince, can you tell me when and how? Of your answers depend that I get richer by the time we get back to Erebor.”

“You guys should stop those stupid bets over me or my sex life.” Thorin mumbled Bofur lit up at this pointing at Thorin.

“So, there was sex?”

“Shut up.”

“Come on; be merciful with your humble subject, my Lord.” Bofur rambled following Thorin. “We did a huge wage on this and this could prove beneficial for me.”

“And what, pray tell humble subject, it is in for me?” Thorin asked quirking a brow. “What do I get in return?”

Bofur was looking scandalized by this question, “My Lord, I thought the sheer pleasure of sharing the bed with such a magnificent lover should be enough.”

Thorin rolled his eyes feeling the hard slap on his back courtesy of Dáin, the Lord of the Iron Hills approached them with a smirk.

“You can bet it was angry and hard sex, Bofur. So, I believe it was Dwalin, Gloin and me the ones who won the bet.”

Thorin lifted his arms in defeat; he turned around rolling his eyes while ordering the Captain of the ship to set sail. The Dwarven-Prince looked back at the shore were he could see King Tuon and Prince Thúlon watching the ship, for some reason, Thorin felt longing in his heart remembering how tranquil had been his time in the desert. It was strange, for Thorin remembered the circumstances that lead him there, the Dwarven-Prince could feel the cold breeze of the night brushing against his skin, the clothes given to him moulding to his body without making him feel suffocate. Thorin stepped forward knowing he was going back to Khand and then back to Erebor, his mind reminding him it hadn’t been that long since he left but making him think it had been months of this adventure. Soon, Thorin was surrounded by the familiarity that was Dwarven camaraderie with laughter and loud conversation.

Nevertheless, and even if Thorin seemed to be working his way back home, something kept him apprehensive. Thorin took a few steps forward until his eyes fell upon the gleaming form of Thranduil, a vision of silver and gold resting on the stern of the ship with his back turned to the rest of the crew. It was then Thorin could tell he was missing something, softening a little he made his way to the elf as silently as he could.

Thranduil didn’t need to turn to know Thorin was right beside him, he furrowed his brows while watching the fading lights of the shore and the blurry images of the Avari and the few dwarves that were left behind. The light of the moon was reflecting on the water of the sea of Rhûn and there was a heavy feeling of emptiness in both the Princes as they sailed away back to reality.

“Are you all right?” Thorin finally asked after a little while, Thranduil lowered his head resting against the rail of the ship.

Thorin remembered what Thranduil told him the night before; he crunched up his nose in concentration breathing in and out until he felt it. It was strange at first, as if he was tapping something forbidden yet familiar. While he centred his attention in what he wanted, Thranduil turned around rather shocked, he could sense Thorin poking at him through their link, it was such a strange feeling the Elven-Prince couldn’t help but let Thorin know everything he was feeling. The Dwarven-Prince turned around with a sense of helplessness he wasn’t sure how to overcome; both of them looked at one another before Thranduil straightened up lifting a hand and closing himself off completely.

“You know?” Thorin started offhandedly approaching Thranduil with ease admiring the beauty of the male standing before him. “We should come back, after…I don’t know, maybe after we get…I mean if you still want, of course, we can get married and then come here again…”

Thorin scowled at how stupid he sounded, hesitating and stuttering he fixed the belt holding his axe while looking away from Thranduil. The Elven-Prince glanced at Thorin softening a little, his heart easing in comfort.

“I do not know.” Thranduil finally said eyeing Thorin who suddenly seemed disappointed. “I was thinking we could go to the Grey Heavens and visit my kin in Lindon. But, I guess, coming here would be nice…there are a lot of places for us to sneak around and be as loud as we want.”

Thorin went rigid almost immediately facing Thranduil completely, the Elven-Prince was giving him a half-smile accompanied by a very suggestive stare.

“You…are you serious?” Thorin inquired with a deep voice, he cleared his throat with memories of their night together filling his mind. “I mean, really? That’s the only thing that comes to your mind? I never thought elves have such wicked minds…”

Thranduil snorted arching a brow at the dwarf, “I really hope you don’t believe that or I shall remind you of your dear cousin, Dáin, who seems to spit out suggestive comments whenever he opens his mouth.”

“Yes, of course, but we’re talking about Dáin.” Thorin commented as if that was enough.

“And, don’t tell me this scenario didn’t cross your mind when King Tuon extended an invitation to us.” Thranduil continued smiling in triumph when Thorin turned away crossing his arms.

“Shut up.” Thorin mumbled smiling when Thranduil seemed to relax a little.

Thranduil turned again to the rail looking into the night, “You should sleep some, we will be in Khand soon enough and by Bofur’s nervous mannerism, I think reality awaits us.”

Thorin felt the dismissal behind the tone of the elf, he wanted to protest and tell Thranduil he wasn’t about to be dismissed until his mind recalled what he felt moments ago. The moment he had tampered on his connection with the elf, Thorin sensed the fear, the reluctance, the confusion and the sadness in there.

“Won’t you join me?” Thorin finally asked Thranduil looked out of the corner of his eyes to the dwarf shaking his head.

“I’m afraid, Thorin, of joining you and depriving you of the much needed sleep.” Thranduil commented. “My hunger for you has not been satiated, besides, you really need the rest and tonight I believe I need to be alone.”

Thorin nodded without understanding, he shifted a little feeling annoyance growing in his heart and mind.

“Of course, then…good night.”

Thranduil bit his tongue trying to get control over his ranging emotions; he could hear Thorin walking away leaving him alone with the moon and his own thoughts. The Elven-Prince lowered his blue eyes to stare at the black waters of the sea of Rhûn while trying to get control over his emotions, he wanted to understand when did he lose himself in the single thought of Thorin existing. It took him almost five days in a foreign land with no one but them for Thranduil to just become an emotional youth. It had been thousands of years since he let his emotions rule his behaviour and a little more so than a few decades since he allowed his heart of have a say in the matter.

For The Elven-Prince finding someone like Thorin had been a faraway dream, a broken promise of fate and a curse placed upon his head for not being what everyone usually expected him to be. However, and even as his thoughts darkened by the minute, Thranduil knew this wasn’t what had him so gloomy. A few hours ago he had spent the best of times riding with Thorin towards the harbour. No, Thranduil knew his worries came in the form of ghosts of the past and the raising dangers of the present. He remembered the battle against the darkness of Mordor; he remembered everything he lost and the pain of war. But, as if that wasn’t enough, they would soon have to face the clan that was about to end with the life of Thorin. In one word, Thranduil was afraid of what awaited them, he was afraid of loving Thorin too much only to lose him to the fates.

_Then you will have to make yourself stronger and show them you’re stronger, that you can protect them and fight with them…_

The memory came to him like lighting in the midst of a storm.

His grandmother’s voice resounded in his mind, the conversation they held a long time ago when Thranduil wondered why his father didn’t think him capable of fighting, of leading and being the heir Oropher had wanted. Thranduil grasped the hilt of his sword while lifting his eyes on time to sea Eärendil twinkling firmly in the sky.

*****

They were welcomed in the midst of cheers and general relief.

Thranduil and Thorin were soon taken to Lord Orik’s place where the old dwarf thank Mahal for their return offering food a fresh bath and new clothes. Thranduil, Thorin and Dáin thanked the attentions noticing the tensed atmosphere around the house, once they had been taken care off a servant took them to the same meeting room Thorin and Thranduil had discussed the terms of the treaty with Lord Orik a few days ago.

Thorin opened his eyes completely shocked at finding a familiar face in there.

Dwalin had been waiting for them.

The sight of him wearing his armour with his axes behind his back and a sword firmly placed on the left side of his hip was enough indication for Thorin to know something had happened. Dwalin approached his Prince bowing deeply to him, his dark eyes taking in Thorin first then in Thranduil.

“My Lords, I’m happy to see you didn’t kill one another and that no one could kill you.” Dwalin smirked before nodding back to where Lord Orik was sitting down with Oín, Captain Farin and young Narog.

“Of course we didn’t kill one another.” Thorin replied half-seriously, half-joking. “I believe the diplomatic affairs with the elves would have been hell and then there’s the matter of making the work easier for the traitors.”

“Indeed, I believe we need to talk.” Dwalin said without giving it too much thought. “Please, my Lords, take a seat.”

Thranduil was the first one to sit down, he rested his left elbow on the armrest placing his cheek on the palm of his hand, his blue eyes following Dwalin carefully. The dwarf put a scroll from under his clothes and gave it to Thorin.

“Four days after you left, King Thráin made a strange announcement only to the most influential families of Erebor.” Dwalin started while Thorin read the letter. “He brought out a stone, a beautiful gem gleaming with the light of a thousand suns and moons and with a life of its own.”

Thranduil raised his brows in interest, he leaned forward a little hearing attentively. He could see as Thorin gave the letter to Dáin, the Dwarven-Prince was looking paler than normal. Thranduil turned a little trying to catch Thorin’s eyes with his but the dwarf was focusing his attention on Dwalin.

“He called it the Arkenstone, named it the heart of the mountain and a divine sign of his right to rule over the mountain.”

“I believe the rest of the Lords and influential dwarves in the mountain buy this almost immediately.” Thranduil commented.

Dwalin frowned, “Yes, they did. But, you have to see this gem…”

“I do not have to, Dwalin.” Thranduil said straightened up. “It is enough for me to hear the way you spoke of it to know it is something you or anyone under the mountain has not seen before and that you have fallen under the spell of this new-found treasure.”

“You’re saying that as if it was bad.” Oín glanced at Thranduil with the same offended expression as the rest of the dwarves.

“No, it is not. It is part of who you are.” Thranduil replied. “I wasn’t trying to point this, but how smart King Thráin was by showing this in the midst of discomfort amongst the higher ranking members of Erebor.”

Dwalin grumbled shifting on his chair, he shot Thranduil a quick glance then returned his attention to the rest of the table.

“I hate to admit it but, Prince Thranduil is right.” Dwalin rumbled. “Thorin, you left and your father start raising the taxes and confiscating things he thought should be going to the military and his own vaults. Whatever he thought was of any value was taken to the private vault.”

“What? Why?” Thorin leaned forward, Dwalin shook his head.

“Thorin, I found out the same day he presented this gem mainly because I was getting ready to come looking for you.” Dwalin shook his head. “Actually, it was thanks to Legolas we could see this being done by a few members of the Greenstone clan, acting mainly in secret.”

“Legolas?” Thranduil perked up at the mention of his son, he leaned forward worry written all over his face. “Is he all right?”

Dwalin shot a quick glance at Thorin before answering, “He is fine. Don’t worry, he is being watched by the rest of the company and Captain Glorfindel doesn’t let him out of his sight, just like Beren.”

Thranduil turned to Thorin who, this time around, was looking at him. The Dwarven-Prince offered a small smile.

“He is going to be all right.” Thorin turned to Dwalin again. “Tell me, who else knows about this?”

“No one else as far as I know. I don’t know what they’re doing but these families, they haven’t said nothing.” Dwalin pursed his lips before speaking again. “They are afraid, Thorin.”

Dáin threw the scroll on the table angrily, he clenched his fists hitting the table before standing up.

“Uncle has gone mad! I knew he was a fucking rat, but this?!” Dáin turned to Thorin who was leaning back on his chair with his face a pure mask of seriousness.

Dwalin glanced at Thranduil nodding to the scroll, the Elven-Prince glanced at the object for a moment before picking it up.

“Thorin, your father…is no fit for the throne anymore.” Dwalin finally said. “He has made a deal with Dol-Guldur, or at least he is maintaining secret correspondence with them and…frankly, I don’t get it, it’s as if I’m losing a huge piece of this puzzle.”

“Your father has always been a fucking mad goat, but this…” Dáin said still grumbling and mumbling angrily.

Lord Orik stirred in his chair glancing at his grandson then at his son, Captain Farin was frowning deeply while looking over at Bofur and Oín who had been silent all this time. It wasn’t until Oín crossed his eyes with the other dwarf that the healer cleared his throat.

“There is something else.” Oín said making everyone in the room turned their attention to him. “We, Bofur and I, took the liberty of question those traitors that were supposed to be here to protect you, Thorin.”

Thorin nodded, “Yes, I remembered some of them were left here. Now that I think about it, Bofur told me there was something he needed to tell me. I thought it was the unexpected visit from Dwalin but I was mistaken. Speak, Oín.”

Oín glanced at Bofur who nodded gravelly, “We tortured them, otherwise we wouldn’t be capable of obtaining what we did.”

“They assured us the wreckage in the ship and your disappearance was a well orchestrate plan to get rid of you and get Prince Thranduil to Erebor.” Bofur said with his eyes on Thorin.

“Who was it?” Thranduil lifted his eyes from the scroll already knowing the answer.

Bofur and Oín looked at one another before Oín spoke softly, with a hint of defeat and sadness in his voice.

“King Thráin.”

Thorin was unusually relaxed, his dark eyes turned to those of Thranduil and the Elven-Prince felt the sudden urge to go over there and offer comfort. Instead, he crumpled the scroll on his hand clenching his jaw.

“Well, that explains this letter, doesn’t it?” Thranduil leaned back nodding at Dwalin. “He wants to make sure you are no longer in the picture to warn Thorin, get rid of Thorin and make sure I’m on a leash.”

“That would be the day…” Dáin commented lightly bumping against Thranduil who narrowed his eyes at him, the Lord of the Iron Hills winked smirking a little. This interaction didn’t go amiss by Thorin who was suddenly rather down, crossing his arms and looking away from the scene.

“I will pay good money to see Uncle trying that.” Dáin continued. “This normal curiosities aside, Prince Thranduil is right.”

“Are you sure Legolas is all right?” Thranduil questioned again dripping worry on his tone.

“He is. Bilbo, Mahal bless him, was concern about this.” Dwalin shook his head. “I don’t know how he does it, but he usually knows more than he lets on. Legolas is being watched closely. But, we need you to go back to Erebor.”

“Thorin can’t go back to Erebor like this. I bet uncle is very angry finding out my beloved cousin is alive and that Prince Thranduil is still far from his reach.” Dáin said dismissing the proposal. “Thorin needs to approach this with care, mainly if uncle is behind all this madness.”

Dwalin nodded, “I thought so too.”

Thorin turned to Lord Orik who was torn between looking horrified and sympathetic with his Prince. The Old man shot Thorin a gentle stare, something Thorin felt digging painfully on his heart.

“What are your thoughts on this matter, Lord Orik?” Thorin asked.

“My Prince, I believe your friends are right.” Lord Orik said slowly, measuring his words as he spoke. “But, I do not see a peaceful resolution to this. King Thráin is still King.”

“My thoughts, precisely.” Thorin bowed his head to the Lord of Khand before standing up. “Would you support me, Lord Orik?”

The question caught the Lord of Khand by surprised, the old dwarf looked over at Thorin before sweeping his eyes around the table. Only Thranduil was glancing at Thorin while all the others had turned to Orik. Captain Farin winced placing his hand on the table.

“You have my support, Prince Thorin.” Farin said firmly.

Orik sighed, “This are really dark times in which a child has to turn against his father.”

“Times have always been dark, Lord Orik. Moments of happiness are the light sneaking around the shadows to show us there is still hope.” Dwalin said.

Orik nodded looking over at Thorin, “You have my loyalty, my Lord. You are a dwarf of word, I will be right there with you.”

Thorin nodded, “I won’t fight my father, Lord Orik. You are right, he is still my father and the King. I will do what it is right for my people.

“This won’t be easy, Thorin. Your father will put a fight and we don’t know how many members of the Greenstone clan serve him, along with the warriors in the mountain.”

Thorin shrugged, “Still, I won’t spill dwarven blood on Erebor, if I can help it.”

Thranduil frowned deeply keeping his own words and thoughts for himself, he could tell Thorin was on the edge of breaking and still passing around with a scary calmness and with words of peace and diplomatic resolution.

Silence filled the room soon after the declaration of Thorin, the Dwarven-Prince stood in front of Dáin who seemed tempted to speak but clenched his lips tight shaking his head. Dwalin sighed shaking his head.

“I’ll do whatever you decide to do, Thorin.” Dwalin finally said. “But I want you to consider all the options.”

“I will.” Thorin replied fast. “Now, I believe I need a rest. Lord Orik, may I have something to drink and eat in my quarters.”

“Certainly, my Prince.” Lord Orik replied fast watching as Thorin nodded before leaving.

Dwalin followed Thorin with his eyes before turning his attention to Thranduil, the Elven-Prince looked thoughtful his blue eyes glaring at the table.

“This is such a mess.” Bofur mumbled scratching his chin. “Is there anything else we should know?”

Dwalin kept his eyes on Thranduil before speaking, “We need to prepare everything to make sure Thorin is safe. I don’t know what else the King is capable of; right now he must think his plan about killing me and reaching Mirkwood to change the terms of the engagement must have worked. But, I don’t know who he is going to send next to take care of Thorin.”

Thranduil tilted his head finding the intense stare of Dwalin on him, the Elven-Prince didn’t need to ask what the other dwarf was thinking or even what he was about to ask. Thranduil understood perfectly; he stood up directing his attention to Lord Orik.

“Lord Orik, I believe I will have something to eat as well. Perhaps, you can direct me to the kitchens and I will make sure Prince Thorin gets his dinner as well.”

Lord Orik glanced at Thranduil slightly surprised, the Elven-Prince had been polite yet commanding, the dwarf shifted a little nodding.

“Of course, Prince Thranduil, of course.” Lord Orik turned to his grandson signalling with his hand. “Narog, please take Prince Thranduil to the kitchens and make sure he and Prince Thorin had everything they need.”

Narog furrowed his brows standing up, “This way, Prince Thranduil.”

Thranduil gave the room a single bow turning around to follow Narog, just as he was about to leave the room Dwalin stopped him. Thranduil turned around to see the spy looking at him with a softened expression, a strange sight on someone usually as hardened as Dwalin.

“Thank you.” Dwalin said Thranduil snort shaking his head before leaving.

Once they were sure Thranduil had left, Dwalin turned to Dáin and the others, “Anyone wants to tell me what the hell happen between those two?”

*****

Thorin watched as a group of dwarves entered the room that had been given to him and the others, his eyes moved following the dwarves with his mouth opening ready to protest when he saw Thranduil entering the room. The male directed the dwarves left and right before dismissing them with a brief thank you. Thorin shifted on the pillow he was sitting in, his dark eyes falling in the regal form of Thranduil who seemed rather distracted with the different dishes around the coffee table.

The Elven-Prince filled a silver cup with a red liquid and filled a silver plate with exquisite food, he turned around and his blue eyes locked with those of Thorin. The Dwarven-prince watched as Thranduil approached him and then, instead of giving him the food, the elf placed the plate and the cup on the floor, took his sword from the belt and sat down. Thorin narrowed his eyes at him, his nostrils catching the sweet aroma of warm food. Thranduil didn’t pay him any mind, he started picking here and there on his plate looking rather awkward while trying to figure out how to grab the food in his fingers without getting too messy. Thorin was observing with some interest as Thranduil took a piece of meat to his mouth closing his lips around it while emitting the most unnecessary and alluring moan Thorin had heard so far.

Thorin opened his eyes looking away; Thranduil glanced at Thorin out of the corner of his eyes smirking. Finally, the Dwarven-prince stood up and decided to copy Thranduil, serving his food and the wine before sitting down beside the elf. They ate in silence, Thorin was distracting himself with meaningless thoughts while Thranduil kept his worries in check while trying to approach the subject. He knew they will have the room for themselves for a long time, enough for them to have a quiet conversation.  The food was soon finished, Thranduil cleaned himself before sitting down again his hand going directly to his sword caressing the sheath softly before pulling it out and letting the silver of his sword gleamed under the lights of the torches.

“When Doriath was taken, we sought refuge in Lindon.” Thranduil spoke softly trying hard to summarize what had really happened that day. “My grandmother had just lost her husband, her home and she wanted to leave Middle-Earth. Before she left, though, she took me away and gave me this. _Aranrúth, the King’s anger._  I thought it was given to my dear cousin and her husband.”

Thorin listened with care watching Thranduil closely, seeing the sorrow those memories brought to him. Thranduil lowered the sword shaking his head before putting it back into the sheath.

“My grandmother told me they had already been given something else, this sword was for me, as a reminder.” Thranduil said softly. “She told me, when the time was right I should renamed it. She told me I was strong and that, even if it could take some time, I would be happy and peace would reach me.”

Thorin leaned forward placing his hand on top of Thranduil’s trembling one, the Elven-Prince snarled angrily putting the sword away. He turned around to face Thorin with an open expression, something Thorin hadn’t seen before on those fair features.

“I’m afraid my happiness will never come.” Thranduil whispered. “I’m afraid…I told you this already, and you don’t know how hard it is for me to admit to you, a dwarf, my greatest fear is to lose Legolas and now, to lose you.”

The Dwarven-Prince frowned his fingertips forming patterns on the smooth skin of Thranduil’s hand.

“We never got to really speak after that night, did we?” Thorin commented smiling a little. “We’ve been in a rush for quite some time. I don’t regret it, you know?”

“I don’t regret it either.”

Thorin leaned back against the pillow with his left hand still playing on top of Thranduil’s right hand absentmindedly.

“My grandfather told me once I shouldn’t trust elves.” Thorin said smiling. “He told me: you deal with them, but you don’t trust them.”

Thranduil gave Thorin a half-smile, “What would he say if he saw you right now?”

Thorin snorted, “Probably something equally idiotic as Dáin. I mean, I can let it go if it was grandfather, but Dáin is really pushing too far.”

Thranduil chuckled leaning forward, “Does it bother you, Prince Thorin?”

Thorin scowled shaking his head while glaring at Thranduil, “Of course it doesn’t. Should it bother me?”

Thranduil leaned closer Thorin stiffened when he could feel the warm coming from Thranduil’s body, he could smell the sweet aroma of wine and he could see those beautiful, deep, blue eyes gleaming tenderly and mischievously at him.

“Of course not, it doesn’t matter how much he tries to allure me with his sweet talk.” Thranduil replied dryly, sarcasm dripping his words. “I bet he is quite the catch whenever he opens his mouth.”

Thorin snickered, “Good, I’m glad you don’t seem attracted to his peculiarities.”

“You being a stubborn and, sometimes, grumpy dwarf is a peculiarity, Thorin. Dáin is just a pervert.”

Thorin snorted smiling a little; he looked away before returning his attention to Thranduil. The Dwarven-Prince leaned forward placing his right hand on Thranduil’s left cheek.

“I don’t know what it is so special about me, or even if I’m the right dwarf for this but…” Thorin swallowed feeling self-conscious all of a sudden. “By my honour, I will make sure your happiness doesn’t slip away from you this time around. You and Legolas will be fine, even if we…”

Thranduil silenced Thorin crushing their lips together, the burning fire inside him igniting all over again, the instinct to give himself to Thorin was back as he deepened the kiss tasting Thorin while placing his hands on the dwarf’s chest. Thranduil felt his body getting ready, his mind giving in after the Elven-Prince tried to hold back his primal needs. Thorin placed his hand on the nape of the neck of the Elven-Prince, his tongue dancing around brushing against Thranduil’s one in a playful dance. The Elven-Prince slid his hand down Throin’s chest, their kiss slowing down to a stop in which Thorin stared directly into Thranduil’s eyes.

“Are you…” Thorin cleared his throat hearing himself rough and deep filled with desire. “Are you still in heat?”

The question caught Thranduil by surprise, the Elven-Prince nodded briefly never taking his face too far away from Thorin’s his hand moving lower until he placed it on top of the well-build thigh of the dwarf. Thorin tensed but kept his eyes on Thranduil, his own hands moving down the back of the elf.

“Is this…is this because of that or…?” Thorin felt foolish asking such a question, he pursed his lips tempted to roll his eyes. Thranduil smiled a little leaning in to kiss and nibble on Thorin’s jaw, moving upwards to the dwarf’s ear.

“I’m always rather aroused when in heat, Thorin. Always needing to be with someone, I told you before, we elves can get a hold of our needs but…” Thorin swallowed hard closing his eyes while his mind tried to keep up with those lips closing around his earlobe and that sneaky hand rubbing the upper part of his thighs, dangerously close to his crotch where his breeches felt uncomfortable tight.

“…But, right now it’s you I want, not because of what I am but because of who you are.” Thranduil leaned back enjoying the sudden power he had.

“Good, I just…you know? Want to make sure.” Thorin said before putting Thranduil down and kissing him again.

“Sure of what?” Thranduil tried to ask through their kiss, this time around the Elven-Prince was turning his head to allow Thorin access to his long neck.

“That you want me as much as I want you. As much as I’ve been wanting you since we met.”  Thorin nibbled on the smooth skin of the elf, tasting the sweet flesh under his lips while his mind clouded over. He could feel Thranduil working on his breeches, those warm hands moving his clothes away while his sweet moans filled Thorin’s ears.

Thorin suddenly stirred into action, his hands moving forward to start working on the elf’s clothes until he was stopped. He was about to protest but his words were caught on his throat at the unaltered look of pure lust in those blue eyes, he swallowed when Thranduil gave him the most dangerous yet wicked smile the elf was capable of.

“I want to try something. Would you let me?”

“Would I like it?” Thorin almost stuttered, he cursed himself when he saw the amused stare Thranduil shot him. Of course he had to ask an idiotic question, his mental functions had been shut down by the elf in front of him.

“I believe you will enjoy it, _Meleth-nîn.”_ Thranduil whispered softly leaning in for another kiss.

Thorin followed Thranduil with his eyes, he had been wanting to take Thranduil again to enjoy the sweet taste of his flesh and hear those alluring moans coming from the elf’s mouth. He kissed Thranduil with everything he got trying to touch the elf but feeling suddenly frustrate when Thranduil slapped his hands away with the same mischievous smile in place. Thorin felt his shirt being removed and he felt relief when his hardened member was freed from the tight confines of his pants. The breeze around them was dry but cold, touching their heated skin bringing a momentary relief. Thorin was trying to wrap his mind around the pleasurable feeling of Thranduil working his way lower, his lips and tongue mapping out the hairy chest of the dwarf, his hands moving around rubbing and working around the dwarf’s body. Even if Thorin was lying on his back on the pillow, with Thranduil above him Thorin couldn’t help but see how docile he was acting. Whenever Thranduil kissed or touch Thorin he did it with reverence, his eyes were gleaming so lovingly the hint of playfulness he sometimes show made Thorin groan with want. Although, a part of him also raised in warning, always making him alert to not let this sudden power get over his head.

“I wonder how you can be capable of such multitasking thinking.” Thranduil whispered moving down to the well-build abdomen of his lover. Thorin jumped startle looking at Thranduil who was looking up at him. “You’re thinking too much.”

“I…I can’t help it.” Thorin replied with his cheeks flustered watching his cock throbbing at the closeness of the elf. “What…what are you going to do?”

Thranduil smirked, “Can’t you imagine, Prince Thorin?”

Thorin made a face when Thranduil moved lower his warm breath caressing the long form of his hardened member, his muscles tensing completely. Thorin opened his mouth then closed it again, suddenly aware even, if they seemed to be speaking Thranduil wasn’t still, his hands were caressing and touching every inch of the dwarf’s body. The link, the link they had formed so long ago was wide opened and, for the second time, Thorin could feel everything coming from Thranduil. The lust, the need, the love…

“I don’t really.” Thorin answered with his voice trembling, Thranduil quirked a brow at him blowing a little on the dripping head of the dwarf making Thorin jerked his hips biting the inside of his cheek. “I…what are you…don’t do that!”

Thranduil chuckled tilting his head, “What? This?”

He did it again and Thorin this time around couldn’t help the deep, guttural moan leaving his lips. The dwarf was looking at Thranduil with a hint of confusion in his eyes, he was also apprehensive stiffed while waiting for Thranduil to do whatever he was about to do. It was then, Thranduil finally understood, the Elven-Prince furrowed his brows a little before his eyes opened in realization.

“Really, Thorin? You’ve never had anyone do this to you?” Thranduil questioned while his long, firm fingers wrapped around the dwarf’s cock stroking him slowly, teasingly.

Thorin growled glaring at Thranduil though the intensity of such a glare was lost behind the lust gleaming in Thorin’s eyes. Thranduil smiled while his thumb caressed the cock head before he leaned in to lick at the tip.

Thorin closed his eyes bucking his hips, his hands wrapping around the pillow, twitching with the intent to try and grab Thranduil’s head. Thranduil twirled his tongue slowly, stroking the length for a moment before taking his hand away. Thranduil lifted his stare, looking at Thorin through his eyelashes, his cheeks tinged with red. Thorin took shallow breathes looking down, he clenched his jaw for a moment admiring how beautiful Thranduil looked like this.

“Fuck…”Thorin mumbled shaking his head. “Never…what are you…? I didn’t…”

“ _Meleth-nîn_ , you have to form complete sentences for me to understand.” Thranduil teased, Thorin lifted his head leaning in to grab Thranduil by his hair. Thranduil moaned feeling as Thorin brought him closer to him, the dwarf was breathing hard, his eyes moving down to see the elf’s hand was still stroking his length.

“I have never had anyone doing what you’re doing.” Thorin growled out, Thranduil smiled leaning in to place a single kiss on those lips.

“Then, my Prince, allow me to show you what you have been missing.”

Thranduil hovered above the leaking length, his tongue sneaking out licking the underside of the dwarf’s cock his eyes never leaving Thorin’s. Thranduil could feel his heart beating loudly, his mind clouded to everything that wasn’t Thorin and giving him this moment. A moment in between their reality, Thranduil leaned in flickering his wet tongue over the slit tasting the flavour that was pure Thorin while grasping the hips of the dwarf to prevent any harsh motions. Thorin took a deep breath when he felt the warm mouth of the elf wrapping around his shaft sucking it gently into his mouth. Thranduil dug his nails on Thorin’s hips while using his lips and tongue to work his way around the head slowly sucking more of Thorin into his mouth.  Thorin had never experience something like this before, his breathing was shallow and he couldn’t take his eyes off of Thranduil, his knuckles were white of how hard he was grabbing the pillow. He swallowed, his hips really tense wanting nothing more than to thrust into the warm cavity of the elf; Thranduil lifted his eyes again and Thorin could feel just how close he was to becoming undone inside the lustful mouth of his lover.

“Thranduil…” Thorin moaned out placing his hand on Thranduil’s head, the elf’s eyes lit up and he slid down Thorin’s length with his lips and tongue caressing the sensitive skin of his cock, he applied a gentle suction to his actions almost making the Dwarven-Prince to finish in his mouth.

Thorin was breathing really hard trying to focus his senses and to get under control of his own emotions, he had never before felt so sensitive to someone, never before had he felt such a deep connection to someone. Thorin caressed the elf’s head placing his hand on the still hurt cheek of his lover.

“Stop…” He breathed out and Thranduil obeyed almost immediately, Thorin groaned in disappointment already missing the warm that was Thranduil’s mouth around him.

“Wasn’t this of your liking?” Thranduil questioned teasingly, his eyes however were showing his real concern.

Thorin swallowed shaking his head, “It was…amazing...”

Thranduil smiled pleased wanting to go back to his task but was soon stopped by Thorin, the Elven-Prince shot Thorin a confused stare and the dwarf grabbed Thranduil putting him closer to him, Thorin leaned until he was face to face with Thranduil.

“If you continue with this, it would be over before either of us can prevent it.” Thorin finally said with a little growl in his voice. “And tonight, Love, I want to finish inside you.”

It was all Thorin had to say before kissing Thranduil rolling them over until he was right on top of the elf, Thranduil chuckled kissing the dwarf back wrapping a leg around him while giving in Thorin’s desires.

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

There wasn’t enough time.

There was never time.

Gandalf rode on top of his horse with hastiness crossing the lands of the Misty Mountains and nearing the wild lands near the house of Beorn. He looked ahead knowing the Dúnedain were following him with the same urgency. Even as they moved on the plains right beside the mountain chain, Gandalf could sense the tension in the air, he knew something big was about to happen and he wasn’t sure if this was a good or a bad thing. The Istari tightened his hold on the staff on his hand, his eyes finding the form of a moving figure approaching him and the others at a great speed.

“Gandalf!” Arathorn screamed from behind him in warning, the man having spotted the same figure.

The wizard turned his head nodding briefly while slowing down; Arathorn scowled lifting his hand to make sure his men stopped as well. Everyone took their hands to their weapons, waiting. Everyone seemed a little surprised when they saw a group of six rabbits of great height pulling on a sleigh with a single individual on top of it.

Radagast the Brown was a sight to behold. The old wizard wore dishevelled clothing stained with  rests of the forest, his face was covered by a short beard and his head was adorned by a strange hat that almost covered his eyes. The Istari glanced at the group with alarm, breathing hard while taking a long sip of the drink he carried with him on the wineskin. Still, with this sudden appearance and with his peculiarities, Radagast was a good wizard with a gentle heart always ready to take care of the fauna and flora of Arda which was the reason this sudden burden heavy on his eyes was a cause of worry for Gandalf.

“Gandalf!” The old wizard exclaimed bewildered with a hint of relief in his voice. “Bless the heavens, Gandalf!”

“Radagast? What are you doing here? Is everything all right?” Gandalf approached the Istari tilting his head while eyeing Radagast then back at Arathorn who was frowning deeply.

 Radagast turned a stern expression to his friend shaking his head, “Danger! Danger in the north! Danger far to the East!”

Arathorn approached them as well glancing at Radagast then to the East, Gandalf tilted his head while lifting his free hand to calm Radagast.

“Whatever you mean by this, old friend?”

“And army, Gandalf! He has an army!” Radagast said still too agitate. “He is trying to get there! We saw it! We heard them!”

“He? Who?” Gandalf inquired alarmed. “Who Radagast?”

“Azog, the defiler.” Radagast whispered in horror, Gandalf opened his eyes in concern to his left Arathorn clenched his jaw remembering the paled orc who carried that name.

“He is leading an army, Gandalf! He is back and full of revenge in his heart.” Radagast whispered looking around as if afraid someone might hear him. “He is intended on getting there, Gandalf. He wants to finish them. He is moving as we speak.”

Gandalf paled looking back at Arathorn who was shaking his head, Gandalf understood there the gravity of the situation and his mind was already working on what exactly he should do. He turned to Arathorn pointing his staff to the East.

“Arathorn, you must go to Mirkwood and alert King Oropher.”

“But, Gandalf, shouldn’t we go to Erebor first?” Arathorn questioned furrowing his brows. “If this is true, then Azog is going to go directly to the Mountain, his revenge is going to fall upon those who stole his victory at the gates of Moria.”

“No, no.” Gandalf shook his head, the thought of Thráin acting strangely still poking his mind, warning him this wouldn’t be wise. “King Oropher would have an army ready to react, I know he would act promptly over all if Prince Thranduil is residing in Erebor. Besides, Azog will need to cross Mirkwood to get to…”

Gandalf trailed off at that moment, he tensed turning around in the direction where Angmar and Gundabad were located. The wizard lowered his face alarmed.

“Of course.” Gandalf turned to Radagast who was looking rather numb. “Radagast, how long do we have? Where did you see this army?”

Radagast furrowed his brows shaking his head, “You don’t understand, Gandalf.”

The Istari spoke softly shaking his head, “Gandalf, Azog was leading the army but he wasn’t the one to call upon them. I couldn’t stay still so I went there, I made sure some of the birds would help me out in this task and then, when I got there I understood…He is back, Gandalf…He…he is no longer in the High Fells of Rhudaur…Gandalf.

“Who are you speaking of, Radagast?” Arathorn questioned.

“The Witch-King of Angmar.” Radagast whispered. “He is no longer there, Gandalf. But, that’s impossible. No one should be capable of lifting the spells, no one should be capable of awakening these dead evil. And he has only one goal.”

“And, what is that?” Arathorn asked dreading the answer.

But it was Gandalf the one to answer, he turned to Arathorn shaking his head, “Azog is intended on destroying the Line of Durin, and this evil wants to rebuild his Kingdom of horror on the backs of Dwarven slaves. We don’t have time, we must warn everyone before it is too late and Erebor falls to the hands of Dol-Guldur and Gundabad.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as you can see this is a combination of both the movie and the book. Arathorn is alive in this and it was a little hard to decided if I should place Aragorn and not Arathorn. Let's see what happens.  
> The part of the battle and Azog being alive I took from the movie, it works with what I want to do so some of these events are going to follow the lines of the movie though not in the same way or with the same results...well, we will see, right?  
> Also, when thinking about Radagast I think he knows what has been going on around Middle-Earth, the Istari were sent to Arda for a reason and that was to protect Middle-Earth from Sauron so, Radagast knows what has been done and what may happen if he is back. I thought I give him more information than they showed in the movie.  
> I just realized my laptop correct all my references to Lindon and put them as Linden.   
> Next time, Dwalin will scold Thranduil for not having a serious conversation with Thorin and going on to sleep with him when danger seems to be so close to them.  
> In their journey back they get attack and Thorin gets back to a home at the edge of a civil war.


	17. The Best Laid Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The road back to Erebor turns out to be one a tricky one, Oropher decides to make his move and Legolas is now aware of the danger he and those he hold dear are in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! Thank you guys for your patience, for your words, like, comments and for reading the story. Again, I apologize for any grammar, spelling mistake you may find here as English is not my native tongue. 
> 
> Tira ten' rashwe! - Be careful-grey-compani.org  
> Amrâl - It means 'Love' as a noun according to the Dwarrow Scholar

**Chapter 17**

**The Best Laid Plans**

 

Morning arrived too soon.

The light of the sun sneaked around the long, light blue drapes covering the frame leading to the balcony, there was a soft breeze blowing the soft material of the curtains while silence filled the room.  

Thranduil was resting on his right side, his head comfortably placed on the pillow only inches away from the sleeping frame of the Dwarven-Prince. The elf contemplated Thorin for a long time, aware of their state of nakedness and the thin bed linen covering their lower parts. Thranduil lowered his eyes to see his legs intertwined with those of Thorin, his left hand placed protectively above the dwarf’s chest. The Elven-Prince shifted slightly moving closer to Thorin, he felt at ease his heart beating alongside Thorin’s one; last night had been wanted and had been necessary, Thranduil closed his eyes enjoying the memories while his fingertips started tracing the different patterns on Thorin’s chest.

“Aren’t you tired?” Thranduil opened his eyes to see Thorin looking back at him through heavily lidded-eyes. His voice had a rough tinge in it, Thorin lifted his right hand to place it on top of Thranduil’s wandering one.

The Elven-Prince smiled leaning forward until he was resting on the crook of Thorin’s neck, “Elves don’t get tired. After discovering you, I do not believe I will be tired ever again.”

Thorin smiled raising his eyebrows while closing his eyes again, “You’re unusually soft this morning. Is it because you have a good night?”

“Perhaps.” Thranduil replied chuckling, the Elven-Prince enjoyed the closeness of Thorin while turning his hand around to make sure their hands were intertwined as well as their legs. He needed to be close to Thorin, Thranduil needed this moment before they got ready to leave.

“It feels strange.” Thorin spoke again lifting their hands. “I’ve never been one to pay attention to my body, I could be tired or cold or hot and it never really bothered me. I pushed myself to the limit trying to numb myself to anything that wasn’t my own resolution.”

Thranduil listened attentive, his face turning into a serious mask while Thorin spoke slowly, softly while the eyes of the dwarf fixated on a point in the ceiling.

“Now, I can feel you.” Thorin continued furrowing his brows. “Everywhere, it’s a buzzing going through my muscles and my mind. Is this what means to be bonded?”

Thranduil took a few moments to answer, when he did his voice denoted his thoughtfulness and his own questions.

“I believe so.” Thranduil let go of their hands while going again to play with his fingers on top of the strong chest of the dwarf. Those long, slender fingers moved around until they stopped right above Thorin’s heart.

“Here. I feel you here.” Thranduil straightening up a little, resting the weight of his body on his elbow to look at Thorin, the Dwarven-Prince turned his dark eyes to him and Thranduil discovered the open affection there, a look Thorin had only developed for him. “And, whenever I’m close to you or my mind decides to bring you in, I can’t help but wonder why. Why you, why now, why this.”

Thorin nodded lifting his hand to let his fingers trace the healing scar on Thranduil’s left cheek, silence fell between them but it was a comfortable silence something they could share to deepen their thoughts and their growing bond instead of something uncomfortable. Thorin chuckled shaking his head.

“This is crazy.” Thranduil returned the smile already far too hopeful and far too in love with Thorin to take a step back and save himself from the pain. Thorin pocked him lightly on his forehead, his lips forming a smirk.

“This is crazy. I bet your father and mine thought we will kill each other before we could even get to the formal marrying ceremony.” Thorin shook his head.

“I was pretty tempted at the very beginning.” Thranduil replied mirroring Thorin’s smile. “Don’t even think it didn’t cross my mind, you have a way of getting on my nerves like no one before you.”

“Hopefully, none after me.” Thorin winked a little smiling smugly. “I have to admit the thought of killing you crossed my mind a couple of times, though…I also thought of screwing you until you didn’t know who you were.”

“Much like you did last night?” Thranduil whispered in a suggestive tone, Thorin shifted nodding tersely and slightly flustered.

“Yes.” Thorin replied.

Thranduil leaned in to place a kiss on Thorin’s lips, the Elven-Prince kissed him long and tenderly, a simple show of affection. When they parted, Thranduil rested his head on Thorin’s shoulder wishing for this moment to go on forever.

“It took me some time but I too thought of this.” Thranduil finally said honestly. “You have a way to sneak inside the hearts of those who met you, those you allowed to see the real you.”

Thorin place his other hand on the naked back of the elf, his fingertips caressing the smooth skin he had been memorizing the night before. It was rather peaceful that morning, as if nothing had happened before this moment as if nothing was about to happen after this. Thorin finally got to think about the contents of the letter; his father’s words so cold and so final, whatever love Thorin thought Thráin might harbor for him had vanished after everything he had discovered. Now, Thorin had only heart for his people, for his friends, for Thranduil. Everyone was telling him he shouldn’t go to Erebor and confront his father, but he had to. He had been running from Thráin his whole life, had tried to please him and be everything Thráin expected of him. Nothing had worked. However, Thorin didn’t want to put anyone in danger if he could help it. He knew his company would do everything he asked of them with a single word from his part, but Thorin had never been selfish, he couldn’t ask this of them, he couldn’t even ask this of Thranduil.  

“You won’t go alone.” Thranduil said softly without lifting his head from the shoulder, his hand grabbing Thorin’s one.

“Now, you read my mind?” Thorin questioned with some amusement in his tone, even if he really was wondering if Thranduil could actually hear what he was thinking.

“No, I don’t need to.” Thranduil commented softly, he sighed while squeezing the hand he was holding lightly. “I can feel your distress, and I can guess what you are thinking. You won’t drag anyone but yourself in a confrontation with King Thráin, you’re far too noble to drag anyone in this.”

“This has nothing to do with me being noble, Thranduil.” Thorin couldn’t hold back the annoyance from his voice, Thranduil re-arranged himself to stare at Thorin again.

“You are an heir to a throne, Thorin. Your father has been losing his mind from quite some time.” Thranduil could tell his words were tearing Thorin apart, he could see the pain and the anger reflected in those eyes. “If it’s not you, Thorin then someone else would do something to stop him and maybe, when that happens, no one can stop the mayhem this could create.”

“I know the loyalty of my friends, Thranduil. I am not so sure about the loyalty of the others.” Thorin looked back at Thranduil who furrowed his brows in light confusion.

“Do you not trust your people, Thorin?” Thranduil leaned forward taking a strand of hair out of the tense features of the dwarf. “Do you not trust their love for you? I’ve been living in the mountain long enough, I have seen you Thorin…I fell in love with the dwarf that would be always be mindful of his people. They will follow, as I will do.”

Thorin snorted nodding briefly, “It is too late then, to convince you to not go with me to Erebor?”

“It isn’t a matter of being late, Thorin. It is more about if it is wise.” Thranduil replied. “Whatever you decided, it had to be done with care. Besides, I have to go back to Erebor.”

“Legolas.” Thorin said eyeing Thranduil who merely nodded; Thorin furrowed his brows with his lips curling up a little. “He is just like you, now that I think about it. The same features, the same golden hair, those blue eyes…I bet you were just as annoying as him when you were younger.”

Thorin didn’t know Thranduil could be that fast until the pillow hit his face, Thranduil rolled his eyes when Thorin laughed with his eyes twinkling merrily.

“I thought you like him better than me, you did seem rather fascinate by Legolas.” Thranduil commented going back to his early position on the pillow.

“He has better manners and was more agreeable to be with.” Thorin said simply enjoying the conversation.

“You know? You are really close of not having anything from me in a very long, long time.” Thranduil drawled huskily, his nails scratching the expose chest of his lover.

Thorin tensed watching those fingers stopping dangerously close to his crotch; the dwarf lifted his eyes to see Thranduil smirking in triumph.

“You flatter yourself too much, Prince Thranduil. There are some situations I can fix on my own.” Thorin replied rather defiantly, Thranduil snorted quirking a brow in challenge.

“Oh, really? I am highly interested in knowing how you fix them, Prince Thorin. I am betting it would be an amusing experience for me.”

Thorin opened his mouth to retort before closing it again, he shook his head watching at Thranduil with a strange glint in his eyes.

“You, my dear, have a wicked mind.” Thorin turned around still baffled whereas Thranduil was looking self-satisfied. “I do not believe anyone would believe me if I told them it is you the one with a wicked mind.”

“No, they won’t. I am rather innocent, too cold and compose for them to even think I can make you blush with the simplest of words.”

“I do not blush.” Thorin retorted dryly.

“You do, dear, you do…you’re doing it right now.” Thranduil teased brushing the back of his hand against the beard of his lover.

“I’m not blushing. This is not a blush.” Thorin replied leaning closer, his own hand brushing against the naked arm of Thranduil, moving up and up.  “This is just…an after effect of your closeness.”

“Oh, really?” Thranduil purred pressing closer to Thorin.

“Really.”

Before Thranduil could say anything else he found himself kissing Thorin with hunger, both of them gave in a make-up session full of needy kissing and playful touching. Their morning stretched out filled with the sweet distractions of them getting to know one another rather intimately, their attempt of a serious conversation soon forgotten until Dwalin deemed it right to bring them back to the real world.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

It had been a long time since he last saw his father and Legolas could not help but missed him. The young elf glanced at the valley stretching in front of him showing the darkened sky and the different wooded patches around the mountain. If Legolas were to focus his vision enough he could see the outskirts of Dale and even the shadow that was Mirkwood.

In the last couple of days, Legolas had felt restless. The lack of news from Khand and the refusal of the King to answer to his or even Glorfindel’s inquires was quite worrisome, more so if their questions were even unanswered when asked to Balin or Fundin. It didn’t take a lot of time for everyone, or at least those in high places to realize news about their Prince and his betrothed had not reached them even since they left the harbor of the city of men beside the Red River. The rumors had started almost immediately and the tension could be felt buzzing inside the mountain where the situation seemed to worsen as time went by.

Legolas shook his head looking down to see Beren nibbling on a piece of wood he had stolen from the workshop. The half-wolf, half-warg had his paws firmly placed on this piece of wood while wiggling his tail happily. Legolas smiled kneeling down to scratch the back of his ear, Beren lifted his eyes growling at the sudden interruption before leaning into the touch.

“You’re quite the spoiled one, aren’t you, Beren?”

Legolas stiffened when his ears caught a sound coming from the entrance of his room, he narrowed his eyes when Beren lifted his ears stopping any munching while tilting his head a little. The young Elven-Prince turned around to the door leading to the balcony he was in, Legolas took his left hand down to his boot while glancing at the door, his hand wrapping around the hilt of a dagger. He didn’t know why or how, but he knew he was being watched; he looked out of the corner of his eyes to Beren but the wolf, while tensed, was sitting there calmly. The moment was strange, Legolas looked around with care before he started relaxing. Just then a knock on his door startled him making Beren jumped in action and started barking like mad.

“Daro! Beren.” Legolas stood up walking towards the door of his room, the young Prince was quite surprised to see a dwarf part of the Royal guard of King Thráin standing right in front of him. The dwarf looked at Legolas with big, black eyes and a dark beard covering his face. The helmet on his face made his features fiercer and rough, making Legolas felt slightly uncomfortable.

Beren growled which only made the guard lowered his gaze to the wolf, the male scowled before returning his attention to Legolas.

“Prince Legolas, my King Thráin is asking for your presence in his office.” The dwarf spoke with a heavy accent.

Legolas furrowed his brows looking around and noticing, for the very first time, he was the only one on the tower. Glorfindel had left early in the day to train and then to try and get some information about Thranduil and Thorin. The Elven-Prince stood outside of his room with Beren following him, the guard stopped pointing at the wolf with mistrust.

“My King asked for you, Prince Legolas. Not your pet.”

Legolas pursed his lips before answering, “I won’t leave Beren here alone. He just recovered from a broken paw.”

The guard was about to protest when heavy steps could be heard coming from the stairs, soon Orí alongside Bilbo appeared behind the door both of them looking out of breath.

“Oh, good, Prince Legolas.” Bilbo smiled tersely approaching Legolas while greeting the guard. “I was hoping to be here on time. I think I can help you with little Beren’s training session for today.”

Orí followed Bilbo eyeing the guard before turning to Legolas, “I…I also found the book you ask for, Prince Legolas you can come over whenever you want.”

Legolas was puzzle as much as the guard, but the Prince was quick to recover when he caught the pleadingly look coming from Bilbo.

“Oh, right, Master Baggins. I will ask you to be careful with Beren, he is quite the mischief maker.” Legolas replied picking up the wolf and handing it to Bilbo, the Prince almost let his emotion show when he felt a piece of parchment being handed to him.

“No need to worry, Prince Legolas. I’ve been around dwarves long enough to know how to handle troublemakers.” Bilbo replied smirking, he winked at Legolas while Orí protested from behind them.

“Now that this problems seems to be solve, let’s go, Prince Legolas.” The guard said gruffly shooting Bilbo and Orí a strange look before turning around and walking away.

Legolas gave Bilbo one last glance before he unfolded the piece of parchment Bilbo had just given to him. The Prince’s blood ran cold when he realized Bilbo had written in elvish: _Tira ten' rashwe!_ , Legolas concealed his emotions while hiding away the note. Whatever he might mean by this note, Legolas didn’t like it one bit.

Bilbo watched as the guard and Legolas disappeared through the stairs, he turned to Orí handing the young dwarf the now fuzzy Beren.

“What are you going to do?” Orí asked in a whispered, Beren was wiggling around until Orí placed him on the ground, the wolf tried to make his way to the door in which Legolas had just disappeared only to be stopped by Orí.

“We can’t leave Legolas out of our sight.” Bilbo said. “Take care of Beren, and if you can get a message to Captain Glorfindel.”

“Bilbo, be careful.” Orí bit his lower lip. “You know what I think of that ring of yours and…”

“I know, but this is for a good cause.” Bilbo replied putting his ring from his pocket. “You have seen the King lately and without having any news from Thorin, Thranduil and even Dwalin this situation is turning out to be even worse than we thought.”

Orí nodded eyeing the ring with mistrust, “Be careful.”

Bilbo threw the ring in the air before catching it with a smug smile, “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.”

                                                                                                                        *****

The last time Bilbo had been to Thráin’s office, the King had asked for his presence.

Bilbo had been reluctant, he had met with Thráin a couple of time before and he hadn’t liked the King one bit. When he presented himself before the King, Thráin had asked, almost immediately, what was his real relationship with Thorin. The question in itself was quite ridiculous and it caught Bilbo off guard, Bilbo had answered truthfully telling the King of the affection he harbor for the young Prince. It was a brotherly affection, nothing else, nothing more. Now, standing in the shadows of the room, Bilbo could see how much had changed since he last was there. The room was filled with gold and silver, and many decorations and paintings showing the King in a favorable position. Everything inside the office scream Thráin and there was nothing that spoke of others beside the King. Bilbo had been getting used to using the Ring for a very long time, ever since he came across it moments before being rescue by Thorin at the feet of the Misty Mountains. At first, Bilbo had been mistrustful of the item, it didn’t feel right and, sometimes, it made him feel sick. But, as time passed by and as need arose in Erebor and Thorin, Bilbo decided it would be a good tool. Right now it gave him the chance to hear the conversation and jump in to help Legolas if it was necessary. Bilbo let his eyes fell upon the gleaming figure of the young elf, Bilbo was quite amazed at how bright and warm the real form of the elf was, he felt his heart beat a tad bit faster at such magnificent sight; but this emotions were soon replaced by a cold and fearful feeling when his eyes fell upon the King. Whenever Bilbo placed his eyes on Thráin wearing his ring, Bilbo could only see darkness, a strange presence around the King making Bilbo cold.

Bilbo observed as Legolas was asked to take a seat, the King eyed the young elf for a long time before his whole expression changed into one of pure seriousness. Bilbo tensed and he could tell Legolas was just as wary as him.

“My Prince Legolas, I’m afraid I have bad news.”

King Thráin was careful with his words, measuring every single one of them while his cold eyes kept Legolas in place. Legolas didn’t move, but his eyes turned a cold shade of blue, only Bilbo could see the anxiousness the young elf was feeling with the sudden flickering of his fëa. Thráin kept his right hand on the table, his fingers flickering around the two rings he had been wearing for quite some time.

“What kind of news, King Thráin?” The question came softly, firmly and rather innocently.

King Thráin tilted his head slightly, his long beard moving while the King held back a smirk. Bilbo had been under the mountain long enough to recognize the mocking nature behind such an expression. The hobbit could do nothing except stared and hoped for Legolas to be wise. Thráin suddenly changed his expression trying to reflect a sorrowful one, but his eyes had always betrayed him. This time around, it wasn’t an exception.

“I’m afraid, Prince Legolas that my son has raised as an enemy of the Kingdom and is looking to take by force what it is his by right.”  King Thráin spoke softly dripping pain and sadness in every word while looking to the right with his head hanging slightly.

Legolas stiffened showing the first signs of having broken his usually expressionless façade. The King caught sight of this, the male lifted his head with his eyes gleaming slightly. The young elf leaned forward, his eyes moving around before he faced Thráin.

“I don’t understand, this can’t be true, King Thráin.” Legolas finally said.

Bilbo had been left frozen on the spot, his eyes had opened wide and his mouth was hanging with shock. Of all the things he expected Thráin to say, this wasn’t even part of his list. Bilbo felt his heart hammering against his ribcage, he clenched his fists glaring at the King while the male shook his head pressing forward a piece of parchment.

“I’m afraid it is true.” King Thráin said. “One of my loyal dwarf’s send me this before dying. He told me my son had asked to go to Khand to arm himself and be ready to fight me. But, I’m afraid, his ambitions don’t stop there.”

“What do you mean?” Legolas inquired and Bilbo was hoping he could see the face of the elf to at least know what Legolas was thinking. His tone seemed rather affect, he was sounding shattered by the news.

“He has your brother and, as far as I can tell, has send word to your father to ask for ransom and help to come over and fight me.” Thráin shook his head, his voice broke by the end of the sentence. “I’m afraid Thorin is coming back only to start a war.”

“My brother?” Legolas sounded alarm all of a sudden, he leaned forward shaking his head. “Surely, King Thráin has already sent word to my father, right? I mean, Khand is farther away than Erebor, maybe you can reach my father before Prince Thorin can.”

Thráin nodded smiling gently, a smile that sent shivers down Bilbo’s back.

“Of course, young Legolas, of course.” Thráin stood up walking slowly until he was standing in front of Legolas, his right hand placed itself heavily on the elf’s shoulder. “I chose Dwalin and another one of my loyal dwarf’s to go to Mirkwood and inform your father of the situation. I have also sent word to your father promising I will protect you the way I could not protect your bother. You will be close to me from now on, although…”

Legolas tilted his head glancing curiously at the King, “Yes, my Lord? What is it?”

“If my son is to commit treason then, that means, his friends may be on his plans.” Thráin whispered leaning in closer to Legolas. The King stared at Legolas tightening his hold on the young elf’s shoulder. “I won’t let Thorin damage everything I have work for, I won’t let him destroy me or take over what is rightfully mine. The Arkenstone and the treasure vault was given to me before he was even a thought in his mother’s mind.”

Bilbo took a careful step forward, even at this distance he could see as Legolas seemed quite tense. The King had lost himself for a moment, his eyes out of focus looking at some point behind Legolas.

“Erebor is mine to keep forever, and that’s what I’m going to do. Yes, I’m going to stop my traitorous son and then…then I’m going to honor my deal with the elves.” Thráin nodded shaking his head before turning to stare at Legolas, the King smiled but it came cold and dangerous. “I need you, Prince Legolas to keep an eye on those friends Thorin has.”

“Of course, King Thráin.” Legolas answered slowly nodding his head while straightening himself up.

Thráin nodded again taking his hand off of the elf, “Yes, watch them and tell me if I should take care of them as well.”

“You have my word, King Thráin. However, if you don’t mind me asking, what are you going to do about my brother?” Legolas finally asked needing to know what had happened to his father.

Bilbo furrowed his brows watching the King’s expression closely, Thráin then centered his attention on Legolas looking at the young elf up and down. The King took a moment to answer, his tongue moistening his lips before he waved his hands away.

“No need to worry, Prince Legolas.” King Thráin finally said in a tone that made Legolas and Bilbo think they should be worried. “I have a solution for this dilemma. My son will soon find the fate of the traitorous and your brother…well, your brother will come back to me.”

The room was left in an uncomfortable and dense silence, Legolas kept his eyes on the King while Thráin made a motion with his hand dismissing the young Prince before turning around to sit back on his chair. Legolas sat there for a moment before standing up, he bowed turned around and made his way to the door. Bilbo followed slowly but surely, not wanting to be left behind in the room until he had a chance to scape. Just when Bilbo realized Legolas hadn’t left any space for him to leave, Thráin called back on Legolas, the Prince turned around leaving the door open.

“By the way, Prince Legolas, there is something else I would like to ask of you.”

Legolas grabbed the doorknob tightly, the metal almost giving in the tight hold of the elf. Legolas smiled though his smile seemed strained.

“Of course, King Thráin, what is it?”

“I’ve found myself in the embarrassing need off going out to my people and making sure they are loyal to their King.” Thráin explained as if this was the most natural thing in the world. “I’ve been searching for some heirlooms that are part of the mountain and not individuals, more so if those individuals are clanless or lowly dwarves with simple jobs.”

The King made a face of disgust before continuing, “Also, I have to make sure none of them fell in my son’s clutches…thus, I hope you will come to my side in two days’ time to declare Thorin a traitor and get everyone ready. We do not know what kind of army he is bringing with him.”

Legolas watched at the King for a long time, he opened his mouth and then merely nodded, “Of course.”

“Thank you, I knew I could count on you.”

Legolas left the King’s office with a steady stroll, he looked around greeting some of the guards and noticing there were some dwarves around the place who had their eyes fixated on him. The young Elven-Prince knew he was being observed, he even felt followed as he took the stairs towards his room in the tower. His heart was beating fast, adrenaline and anxiety moving through his nerves while his mind tried to form some kind of sense of the words of the King. Everything before him was moving in slow motion, he felt more than always the lack of warm coming from his father remembering they hadn’t had any news in a very long time. The rumors around the mountain, once again, bothering his mind and Legolas felt the sudden urge to go to the stables and steal away a horse or even the war-goat Thorin had given to him.

By the time Legolas arrived to his room he noticed some warm food was waiting for him, Glorfindel was outside speaking with Orí. The young elf took a deep breath, his worries increasing when he remembered the words regarding Thorin’s friends. Glorfindel turned around to see Legolas, the Captain went immediately to him placing his hands on the elf’s shoulders.

“Are you all right?” Glorfindel finally asked.

“Yes, I’m fine.” Legolas smiled shaking his head. “What do you know about…about Prince Thranduil?”

Glorfindel lowered his eyes Orí let out a sigh. Legolas shook his head sitting down on the ground allowing Beren to jump right in his arms.

“Nothing, we don’t know nothing.” Glorfindel eyed Legolas with concern written all over his features. “What did the King want?”

Legolas pursed his lips, he looked up when someone else joined them in the balcony. Bilbo stared at Orí nodding briefly before turning to the others. His blue eyes, finally fell upon Legolas smiling sympathetically at the elf.

“Sorry, I was just making sure Bombur didn’t eat everything in my store.” Bilbo approached Legolas glancing at Glorfindel. “What did the King want?”

Legolas glanced around before he told them everything that had happened in the meeting, he spoke softly with a sense of insecurity in his heart. Glorfindel was showing his growing concern while walking around the balcony, Bilbo had sat down beside Legolas putting some small crackers from his pocket to give to Beren. Orí bit his lower lip, bouncing back and forth on his feet, he turned his head to Glorfindel who was leaning back against the rail.

“I’m sorry, Captain Glorfindel, Prince Legolas but…wouldn’t be better if Prince Legolas were to leave?” Orí said softly. “Maybe, like this you won’t have to worry about him.”

“I won’t leave.” Legolas said firmly, his eyes gleaming with a strange fire. “I won’t leave until I know my f…my brother is well. I won’t leave until I know no one is in danger.”

Glorfindel turned around glancing at Legolas with a sympathetic stare, “I know. I know I should be making you leave, my Prince. But you are as stubborn as your father ever was.”

Legolas smiled scratching the back of Beren’s ear, Bilbo glanced at Orí opening his eyes slightly. The young dwarf shrugged nodding.

“You know?” Bilbo started looking over at Legolas then at Glorfindel. “We do need to tell your father about what’s going on here.”

Glorfindel glanced at Bilbo, but the hobbit was looking at Legolas. The Elven-Prince turned to Bilbo furrowing his brows.

“I thought King Thráin had sent word to him.” Legolas said.

“Yes, he sent word to King Oropher.” Bilbo explained giving Legolas a meaningful stare. “But, how about letting your father know you’re fine and well, finding out what is really going on.”

Legolas opened his eyes slightly, he turned to Orí who was smiling sheepishly at him while Glorfindel shook his head when he found Bilbo was glancing at them cheekily.

“I can understand some words in elvish, you know? And Orí here is a scholar, he has been studying elvish and other languages from an early age.” Bilbo commented looking from one elf to the other.

“Master Baggins, you never cease to amaze me.” Glorfindel glanced at Bilbo with a hint of gratefulness in his eyes. “You and Orí have kept this a secret for a long time?”

“Yes, ever since Prince Thorin presented the war-goats to Prince Legolas.” Orí replied shyly. “I was hoping Prince Thranduil would trust me enough with this information later but, until then, I was happy to keep this a secret.”

“Thank you.” Legolas whispered.

“Nonsense.” Bilbo waved his hand away. “Whatever the reason to keep your real parentage a secret is yours and Prince Thranduil’s business; however, now that the situation is looking so gloomy, I believe it was necessary to put this secret out.”

“You are right, Master Baggins, and thus I trust you will understand why I cannot leave.” Glorfindel said. “Nor can Legolas leave until we know what happen to Thranduil. I am here to protect Legolas, and I believe he needs the protection.”

Bilbo nodded gravely, he turned to Legolas then back at Glorfindel, “Still, something must be done, the skies seem to darken instead of clearing as time goes by and this lack of news from Thorin are getting on my nerves.”

Legolas kept playing with Beren, his mind was still trying to reach for a way to get to his father. He felt the burden of ignorance clinging to his heart, the anguish of Thranduil suffering in some far away land without any help. Legolas shook away those thoughts, he could not allow any negativity to come any closer or else he would start acting recklessly. The words of King Thráin kept bothering him, however, he looked around the balcony until he lifted his eyes to the sky. Bilbo was right, there was only dark clouds above them, and the night seemed closer than the day. The mountain itself felt stale as if something was eating it from inside, there was only tension around them and unhappiness coming from the citizens and even some of the most influential families in Erebor. Still, Legolas could tell there was something else, there was something else bothering him so; the young Elven-Prince cracked a smile when Beren found the sleeve of his clothes and started biting it, shaking his head while growling playfully.

“What about the ravens?” Glorfindel asked suddenly.

Orí and Bilbo turned to the Captain with equally baffled expressions, the Elven-Captain was staring at them in wonderment with his hand firmly placed on the hilt of his sword.

“The ravens?” Legolas questioned.

“It could work.” Orí said slowly. “We could use one of the ravens to seek Prince Thorin and send a message.”

“But, we know Dwalin has already left to meet with Thorin.” Bilbo pointed out. “I bet if there was some news he would have sent them with one of his contacts or something.”

“Wait a minute, the King told me he sent Dwalin to Mirkwood.” Legolas intervened. “How could he have gone to Khand if he was to go to Mirkwood?”

Bilbo winced, “Right, he…he wasn’t about to do such a thing, Prince Legolas. He went looking for Thorin, although I’m not completely sure about this one. I’m not even sure if what the King told you was the true.”

“All we have to do now is wait, then.” Glorfindel finally said. “I do not like it. I’ve never been one to sit idle around waiting for things to happen.”

“Then, let’s start doing something.” Bilbo said. “King Thráin needs to be stopped and we need to make sure he can damage Thorin’s reputation while Thorin is out there.”

Everyone seemed to agree with this plan, everyone seemed to favor this course of action instead of paying attention to the little voice reminding them of the rumors. The rumors about Thorin’s dead or even of his disappearance; they needed to hold onto something, and this something turned out to be making sure Thráin would have more difficulties in his ruling. Even if no one said it, it was pretty obvious to the presents the dam was about to broke and the consequences wouldn’t be pretty for anyone involve. Glorfindel could only ask the heavens for Thorin and Thranduil to get to the Mountain as soon as possible, before Thráin let his madness consume him and Erebor.

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Morning in Khand were ready busy.

Everyone around was getting ready to go to the markets or the work place, standing from the wall surrounding the harbor Thranduil could see the light of the sun reflected in the calm waters of the Sea of Rhûn, many fisher-Dwarrows were working very hard around with the traps, the nets and even their boats. Wherever he turned his blue eyes he could see the soldiers walking around ready to protect the city, the peace that had seemed so threatened now was returning again to the faraway city.

“Explain.” Dwalin placed himself beside the Elven-Prince, he had his arms crossed and was glaring at Thranduil who was pretty tempted to wince at the intensity of said glare. For a brief moment, the Elven-Prince felt like a child being admonished by his guardian.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dwalin.” Thranduil kept his blank expression, his voice completely firm with hints of disinterest in it.

Dwalin narrowed his eyes at him, “I asked you to speak with him and, instead of this, you go and bed him! Explain!”

“I don’t see how this is any of your business, Dwalin.” Thranduil retorted rather stubbornly.

“Oh, you two deserve one another!” Dwalin exclaimed shaking his head. “You both are just as stubborn and cocky.”

The dwarf shook his head scowling at the empty space before him, Thranduil raised a brow wondering if all dwarves were just as childish as Dwalin, Thorin and Dáin in their anger. Dwalin then turned to Thranduil again raising his head with his eyes completely fixated on the elf.

“I can’t believe you did it. You two…” Dwalin shook his head and Thranduil this time around rolled his eyes.

“It seems like the personal matters are rather public in the Dwarven world.” Thranduil crossed his arms looking just as defiant as Dwalin.

“You and Thorin are part of the Royal family, Prince Thranduil. It is my duty and the duty of those close to you and Thorin to know everything.” Dwalin retorted resting his hands on the wall. “Besides, you must know what this means to Thorin.”

Thranduil didn’t say anything, he merely kept his eyes on the sea while Dwalin spoke beside him.

“You must know you mean the world to him.” Dwalin spoke softly. “I’m glad you two stop dancing around one another like idiots, but really? Couldn’t you have wait? Getting married in the midst of your disappearance.”

Thranduil tilted his head to set his eyes on Dwalin who gave Thranduil a pointed look, the Elven-prince this time around felt like a child thinking this kind of business could be kept from the spy. He must remembered that, just like Legolas meant the world to Thranduil, Thorin meant the world to his friends.

“You know about this.” Thranduil stated shaking his head.

“I know the basics, I bet Thorin must have been rather…”

“I didn’t tell him.”

Dwalin straightened up narrowing his eyes at Thranduil, “You didn’t? Why the hell not?!”

The dwarf was tempted to say something else but he could notice the expression on the elf, it was so strange to be capable of reading Thranduil so easily. In all the time he had met the elf, Dwalin had to admit trying to guess what he was thinking beyond his uninterested, blank, and cold façade had been a challenge. Now, there was something gleaming in those eyes, something tender and concern. Dwalin pursed his lips grumbling when he suddenly felt guilty for coming all the way to scold Thranduil for going around with Thorin and behaved like a pair of pubescent youngsters.

“You are right, Master Dwarf. I should have told him but he was already concern with other matters and trying to understand what it means to be involved with someone like me.” Thranduil explained. “We didn’t have the smoothest of starts, and there wasn’t any assurance at the beginning we would end up involved in any way that wasn’t a marriage for convenience.”

Thranduil then turned to Dwalin, “I had already reveal too much to him, I didn’t want this to feel like another obligation. If he felt the need to end the arrangement between our Kingdoms, I didn’t want this to get in the way.”

“You know he won’t.” Dwalin replied. “Whatever happens, and however this ends, Thorin wouldn’t want to be parted from you.”

Thranduil broke into a tiny smile, he shook his head shrugging, “Still, I was hoping to give him the chance to back away or plan our union in a more formal way. I know you dwarves enjoy this formalities and a chance to go all out in a celebration.”

Dwalin grumbled again turning his head from left to right, “Very well, you do have a point.”

“You don’t have to sound so pained by this.” Thranduil retorted rolling his eyes.

“I won’t say anything, then. At least, tell me you have a serious conversation with him last night, or early this morning?” Dwalin inquired again. “I really need to know this because you two seem rather found of this new closeness to think straight when around one another.”

Thranduil shifted slightly, his ears coloring red while he nodded, “I did speak to him. It wasn’t as if we couldn’t control ourselves.”

“Right.” Dwalin answered with skepticism.

“He is thinking on confronting Thráin. He doesn’t want to put you or the others in danger.” Thranduil finally revealed.

“Useless, if you ask me. We will be by his side whether he likes it or not.” Dwalin mused over this for a moment. “You know? I received a message when I was coming, Bofur used one of my links to the city. I sent a message to Balin, I hoped, by the time we started marching back to Erebor the message reached them. They would be ready for us.”

Thranduil nodded turning around, “I believe it is time for us to go.”

Dwalin followed the elf’s eyes to see young Narog approaching them, the spy nodded eyeing Thranduil for a moment.

“You and Legolas are part of this family now, I hope you know that.” Dwalin shifted uncomfortably, the Elven-Prince smirked while softening his stare. “We will protect you if it is necessary.”

“Likewise, Dwalin, likewise.”

*****

Dáin tilted his head eyeing Thranduil up and down, his lips curling up slowly until he felt a slap at the back of his head. He turned to see Thorin glaring, his lips pursed showing his annoyance, Dáin chuckled putting an arm around his cousin.

“You’re a lucky bastard, you know that, right?” Dáin stared at Thorin out of the corner of his eye, his smile only growing when he saw how uncomfortable Thorin was. “Come on, you must know this. I was really jealous when Uncle announced the engagement, I was hoping I could have a go at the Elven-Prince until the announcement was made.”

Thorin tensed turning his head to stare at Dáin, the Dwarven-Prince shook his head moving away while fixing the straps on the vembrance on his left hand.

“You shouldn’t worry, though. I’m not his kind of bastard.” Dáin continued. “Apparently, he only likes his bastards all dark and broody. Like you.”

Thorin grumbled a little, “Good to know.”

“So, now that we clear this off…how is it?” Dáin continued, Thorin furrowed his brows in confusion staring at Dáin.

“How is what?”

Dáin rolled his eyes poking Thorin on his shoulder, “Well, how is it bedding an elf? I bet is out worldly.”

Thorin rolled his eyes while Dáin snickered at his own joke, the Dwarven-Prince stopped pretending he was fixing the light armor he was wearing to stare at Dáin for a moment. The Lord of the Iron Hills stopped fooling around to pay attention to Thorin.

“Did you expect this would happen?” Thorin finally asked.

“Yes, you my dear cousin have always had a weakness for pretty things and noble hearts.” Dáin commented softening a little. “Prince Thranduil may be an ass, but he is the kind of ass you like.”

The wigging of eyebrows was missed when Thorin threw a towel at him, Thorin crossed his arms buffing until Dáin lifted his arms in a sign of surrender.

“Be serious. I mean it.”

Dáin sighed nodding, “I never thought this would happen. But I was happy to find out you two are down with the loving and being mates and all.”

Thorin snorted shaking his head, this time around Dáin placed his hands on his cousin’s shoulders making Thorin lifted his eyes to look at him.

“You, Thorin, need love. You really need someone there ready to give his everything for you.” Dáin gave his cousin a half-smile nodding to where Thranduil was still speaking with Dwalin and Bofur. “He is ready to do this, but you have to…you know? Stop being all noble and shit, let us, every single one of us help you in this. That’s what we’re here for.”

“Is the sun affecting your head, Dáin? Suddenly, you’re all soft and loving, like a kitten.” Thorin teased making Dáin grumbled while ruffling Thorin’s hair.

“Careful, you may be my Prince, but I’m still older than you.”

“Now, that’s a real discovery, still Thorin seems more mature than you, Lord Dáin.” Thranduil came from behind positioning himself behind Thorin while staring a Dáin amusedly.

“Oh, really now? But I bet I can be of more fun, if you allow me to show you.” Dáin drawled every single word with a suggestive tone.

Thorin glared at him, Thranduil wasn’t looking impressed and Dáin was really enjoying this.

“Not even if you were the last living being on this earth, Dáin.” Thranduil smirked when Dáin could only laugh.

“Well, it was worth a try.” Dáin winked at the elf moving pass them.

Thorin tilted his head to look over at Thranduil, the elf was following Dáin with his eyes but his attention was soon claimed by Thorin. The Dwarven-Prince had grabbed his hand in his, their fingers intertwined; Thranduil softened a little but his amusement was evident in his eyes. This was the first, open sign of affection the Dwarven-Prince had shown to him in front of his kin and Thranduil felt his heart skip a beat when Thorin made it public in ways he hadn’t dare before.  Right now, every soldier, every noble or common dwarf in Khand could see them, could see both Princes and the love coming off of them.

“Are you two quite ready or are you going to give us a show at least?”

Thranduil sighed, his left eyebrow twitching slightly.

“I’m going to kill your cousin one of this days.” Thorin chuckled placing a soft kiss on their joined hands.

“You can’t do that, _Amrâl_. I kind of need him.” Thorin explained laughing a little. “Come, we really need to part, Erebor await us.”

They were all reunited in the yard of the Council building, everyone was getting everything ready for them to leave. They found a black horse for Thranduil, Stardust had been waiting for his master’s return and the others had their own war-goats awaiting for them. All the mounts had been saddled and prepare for the long journey; the first part would be made by boat and, before they got to the city of men they would disembark in the middle of nowhere to get a straight path directly to the mountain.

“They won’t expect us if we travel down this path.” Dwalin explained while pointing at the map. “This terrain is perfect for the mounts to go at full speed and for us to go undetected.”

“How long would it take?” Thranduil examine the roads and the different marks all in Dwarvish letters.

“If we leave now and everything goes according to plan…” Dwalin scratched his chin glancing around the table. “I’ll say four days. Less if we decided we can keep up at night.”

Thorin furrowed his brows, his hand moving around the path Dwalin was proposing, his fingertip passing through a wooden area he knew pretty well. The Long Forest, the forest that was the limit in between the river and Dale just before they road changed taking them directly to Erebor. For some reason, Thorin felt unease, he glanced at the spot until he felt the soothing touch of Thranduil; when Thorin turned to look over at Thranduil the elf was staring at him with understating gleaming in his eyes.

“Then, let’s go now. Today we will not stop unless we’re too tired to keep going.” Thorin turned to Lord Orik then. “Lord Orik, you are now in charge of Khand. I thank you for having us here, for this new treaty and for your loyalty.”

“My Prince.” Lord Orik inclined until his beard was touching the ground. “My loyalty goes to the Crown of the House of Durin, you and your grandfather are the living proof this noble Line is still alive and taking care of the mountain. Whatever happens, Prince Thorin, we are at your service.”

“I won’t forget this, Lord Orik.” Thorin replied bowing his head. “For now, this is something I have to fix with my father. We will see what happens from there.”

Captain Farin approached the group, his armor already on with his sword in place. He was still bandage, and there were traces of weakness in him, but the dwarf had come completely decided. Thorin furrowed his brows facing the dwarven warrior with confusion, his black eyes went from the Captain to Lord Orik who was smiling sadly.

“Captain Farin, I do not remember you coming with us.” Thorin said eyeing the warrior. “What are you doing wearing this armor and those bandages?”

“My Prince, Lord Oín told me I could ride, he also told me my recovery was complete.” Captain Farin then knelt down, Thorin transformed his expression into one of pure seriousness. “I’m here my Lord, to pledge myself to you and ask you to let me come with you. Let me help, let me protect you.”

Thranduil quirked a brow, his lips curling up slightly showing his approval of this action. Beside him Dáin and Dwalin were just as impressed, both dwarves eyeing Thorin waiting for the Prince’s answer. Thorin glanced at Farin for a long time, he was left speechless and slightly confused for this show of loyalty was strange to him. He knew his friends and some of his family loved him and would do anything he ask of them but, to actually see a stranger, someone else do it…

The Dwarven-Prince almost jumped startle when he felt a soothing caress at the back of his head, it was a strange sensation starting on his chest and then spreading all through his body. He felt reassure by this feeling, his body relaxing while he understood the trust that was given to him. Thorin grabbed the hilt of the sword being offered to him and, for the briefest moments he could sense Thranduil was right there with him as if he had always been a part of him. The Dwarven-Prince smiled knowing this was all Thranduil’s doing.

“I take your word, Captain Farin, as well as your sword as a proof of your loyalty and the truthfulness behind your words.” Thorin answered resting the blade of the sword on the dwarf’s head. “Serve Erebor well, Captain. That’s all I ask of my people.”

“I will, my Prince.”

Thorin returned the sword to the Captain, everyone went back to work as soon as this was over. Thorin turned around and his eyes soon found those of Thranduil. The Dwarven-Prince approached the elf with a half-smile on his lips.

“Thank you.” Thorin finally said.

“Whatever for, Prince Thorin.” Thranduil replied his hand moving away a stray lock of hair. “This was all you, and your wisdom.”

“Well, since this was all me, do I deserve a kiss?”

“So demanding, _Meleth-nîn.”_ Thorin was about to protest when Thranduil comply with his request, the dwarf smiled into the kiss without a care of the world.

Dwalin rolled his eyes, Dáin chuckled while Bofur and Oín still looked rather shocked by this development. The rest of the dwarves witnessing this couldn’t help but see the strange bond between both Princes and, just as their loyalty was extended to Thorin many already felt allegiance extending to the elf. As strange and unusual as this might be.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Gandalf approached the borders of Mirkwood with care, Radagast was by his side still highly agitated while babbling about everything he had seen in the High Fells of Rhudaur. The sound of tensing bows got to them before the sight of wood elves, Gandalf and Radagast stopped their approaching of the borders of the forest when a wood elf stood right in front of them.

“Mithrandir! What are you doing here?” The elf sounded surprised, with a wave of his hand the other elves put their bows away lowering their arms.

“Galion! It is quite a surprise to see you here as well.” Gandalf approached the elf who was still quite surprise to see him.

“My King has sent me here, on the words he heard in Rivendell.” The elf commented furrowing his brows while looking around. “These borders have become darker by the hour. And still, there is nothing beyond the empty lands.”

“Nothing you said?” Gandalf questioned glancing at Galion frowning deeply, Radagast made a sound at the back of his throat but was stopped by a simple gesture of Gandalf. “Could you take me there, Galion?”

Galion hesitated for a moment, he eyed Gandalf before nodding with his head, “You know, I must tell my King you are here.”

“Of course, and I believe you have already sent word to him that I am here.” Gandalf retorted with only a hint of amusement in his voice. “Do not fear, Galion. I believe King Oropher may have suspected I will come. My interest, however, is in what lies before his lands and the only piece of land with meaning separating you from the Golden Forest.”

“It was strange at first, when this was asked of us.” Galion admitted. “But spiders and some other foul creatures roam freely and more frequently around here. This place…I don’t like it. My lord’s life force can’t be felt completely in here.”

“Foul things are trying to come back to our world, break the peace we have fought to obtain.” Gandalf said glancing around and noticing the state the forest was in.

Galion guided them through the hidden path, the green of the leaves and the brown of the trunks had darkened in this part of the forest. Everything in here seemed to grow dense and dead, yet with a hint of corrupt life in it. Gandalf heard attentively as Galion explained to him they had been guarding the forest edge without watching anything unusual about the fortress,  they had heard from their King about the activities in this cursed place, also of the new inhabitant it guard. However, the fortress itself seemed to not have any interesting life that wasn’t that of a human with too much power and little to no knowledge of how to use it. Radagast glanced at Gandalf opening his mouth ready to contradict Galion, but Gandalf glanced at him shaking his head. The old wizard pouted grabbing his staff while following Gandalf; it took them ten more minutes to reach the border of the forest. From this distance, there was only darkness and an empty land, no life or anything else that could bring hope to the heart of any living creature.

“There it is.” Galion pointed at the land extending in front of them, coldness sneak around touching the skin of the eternal youth of the elf and the eternal age of the Istari. Neither seemed affect by this, yet the three of them felt the changed in the atmosphere.

Gandalf glanced at the fortress then turned to Galion, “What do you see there, Galion?”

The elf blinked confusedly at first, he turned around to see in the distance the white fortress standing away under the shadow of the stormy sky.

“A well-formed edification, with white columns and walls, a few men here and there.” Galion said tasting the words on his mouth. “The same sight we see every day.”

“Exactly.” Gandalf replied.

Radagast furrowed his brows, “How is that possible?”

“A great enchantment, my old friend. Strong enough to trick and elf with. One of the kind we haven’t seen in a long time.” Gandalf turned to Galion serious. “I need you to relay a message to your King.”

Galion lifted his eyebrows but nod, “What message would that be, Mithrandir?”

“Tell him our fears had been proven right.” Gandalf said smiling a little. “He will know what I am talking about. Go, now, Galion, do not delay this message for he needs to know this before he acts.”

Galion seemed rather confused, he stared at Gandalf then at the fortress, “What are you going to do?”

“Well, my dear Galion, I’m going in.” Gandalf replied as if this was the most logical thing to say.

“But, Gandalf! If what we think is the true, then this can be a trap!”

Gandalf nodded turning to Radagast, “Indeed, this can be a trap. That’s why you will send word to the Lady Galadriel and the rest of the council about this.”

“But…” Radagast started but Gandalf stopped him.

“You must do it. And I must go.” Gandalf then turned to Galion.” Can I count on you also sending the message?”

“These are really strange times, Mithrandir. And yet, I see this is no game.” Galion nodded lifting his arm until one of the wood elves appeared before him. “I’ll send word to him, do be careful Mithrandir.”

The old Istari smiled nodding a little, he turned around facing the glamour covering the truth behind the fortress.  Even this far away he could feel the evilness coming from that place, he frowned deeply his hand tightening the grip on the staff. He took a step forward trusting his words would reach Lady Galadriel and the rest of the White Council on time, as well as the message he just sent to King Oropher.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

The Woodland Realm was buzzing with activity.

To have visitors from other lands was already strange for them but, to actually have mortal visitors was even more incredible. More so if those visitors were not coming from the Kingdom of Esgaroth or even Erebor, Feren guided the newcomers down the hall leading to the Throne Room. Arathorn glanced around him, a hand on his sword, while he speeded up waiting impatiently his meeting with the King. Arathorn had noticed some of the guards had been heavily armed and the guards outside the Royal Palace had been doubled since the last time he passed by the forest. Everything seemed different and he could tell the tension around them was the result of the meeting in Rivendell.

The Antlered Throne was a huge circular room, different chairs with high backs were disposed around the room pressed against the wall. Columns decorate the interior, engraved with different figures telling a story well-known to the wood elves. The Throne was positioned right in front of the door so the visitors had to cross all the chamber to reach the King who was already sitting there.

“Lord Arathorn, it has been quite a while since I last host a Dúnedain.” The King leaned forward, on his lap he had two different parchments while his hands placed themselves on the armrest of the throne.

“King Oropher, I thank you for receiving us so quickly.” Arathorn spoke clearly, firmly leaving aside the pleasantries remembering the urgency in Gandalf’s voce just before the wizard left.

“It must be an urgent matter what brought you here, Lord Arathorn. The last thing I knew about you, you were riding away with Mithrandir to a very dangerous place.” King Oropher leaned forward. “I’m listening.”

Arathorn furrowed his brows a little, he stared at the King for a moment before stepping forward.

“As you know, my destination was the High Fells of Rhudaur. Time was on our side, we were riding fast to reach our destination when we came across Radagast the Brown.”

Arathorn started his narration telling everything he had heard while the wizards had spoken, every single revelation every name that was uttered brought a new expression to the usually stoic King. Oropher placed his right hand on the letters resting on his lap, his eyes followed every movement of the mortal in front of him as he continued his narration.

“Gandalf asked me to come here, to inform to you of this army ready to march against Erebor and endanger not only the life of your son but also the continuity of the Dwarven-Kingdom.” Arathorn tilted his head looking gravelly around. “King Oropher, if this all turns out to be true then, we are facing dangers that haven’t been brought to this land in a thousand years.”

“Indeed.” King Oropher stayed still with his eyes on Arathorn. “You have brought with you grave news, Lord Arathorn. And these news had much to do with two different messages I got in the last day.”

King Oropher stood up, his hand grabbed the letters while he approached the man. Arathorn kept his grey eyes on him, his brows furrowed while he followed the King with his eyes.

“Apparently, Mithrandir is doing an excursion inside Dol-Guldur. A foolish, but necessary thing to do.” Oropher pursed his lips. “This is a matter that doesn’t compete me. However, the second letter I got from the Avari residing in the East. Apparently, my son has been resting with them after a strange accident while on a mission there.”

“What kind of mission? I’m sorry, King Oropher but my understanding was Prince Thranduil was betrothed to the heir of Erebor.” Arathorn commented. “I didn’t know he was put already under the weight of some of this state matters.”

“My same thoughts.”

Oropher smiled tersely, he could not tell this man everything he knew and everything he feared. The admittance of his own weakness was not something Oropher was ready to discuss with anyone, but the King had an idea as to why Thranduil was sent to this place. He had an idea as to what King Thráin might be thinking or at least desiring, it hadn’t been difficult for the King to see the signs of sickness behind the dwarf because ambition and greed was gleaming in there when he spoke of the homage the Woodland Realm must be ready to pay if they were to keep dealing with the Mountain.  Oropher put the letters away before turning his full height in front of Arathorn.

“Where does Mithrandir think this army is coming from?”

“He thinks they’re coming from two different ways. One from the forest, that means from the fortress; the other is coming from Gundabad.”

Oropher looked away thoughtfully, “Gundabad…Erebor is the perfect place. Strategically speaking and also economically speaking.”

The King nodded turning his head to Feren, “As much as I would like King Thráin to be taught humility, my sons are there.”

Arathorn seemed rather surprised at the use of plural, Feren took a step forward bowing slightly.

“Feren, get everything ready. Call upon the guards watching over the borders facing the fortress.” King Oropher placed a hand on the man’s shoulder squeezing lightly. “We are marching towards Erebor and try to help the stubborn King before this surprise attack destroys the mountain.”

“My King, I’ll have everything ready in a few hours.”

“Feren, wait.” Oropher stopped the elf before he left, the Captain faced his King who tilted his head with his eyes gleaming cunningly.   “You will lead the army, take the soldiers to the borders of Mirkwood right under the careful watch of Raven Hill, do not do anything unless it is necessary. I believe by then Captain Glorfindel would have joined you, in which case you will be under his command.”

“As you wish, my Lord. But, my King, if I may ask, where are you going?” Feren stared at his King who turned his attention to Arathorn.

“I’ll go to Dale. If these rumors of war are true, we will need all the help we can get. We don’t know how the situation in the Mountain really is, also we do not know how big this army is.” Oropher stepped back shaking his head. “However, if it is true that Azog the defiler is leading them and that the master holding the leash of Azog is no other than the Witch-king then, I’m expecting a deadly force.”

Arathorn nodded in understanding, “You are going to ask from the King of Esgaroth’s help.”

“Yes, he is a good man and this concerns him as much as it concerns me and Thráin.” Oropher replied. “Feren, get everything ready then. Also, get Thranduil’s armor and his mount ready, I believe he would like this items on him before marching to battle.”

“Yes, my King.”

Once Feren had left Oropher dropped his shoulders tiredly, “Now, we wait, Lord Arathorn.”

“I was thinking I could join your elves at the Raven Hill.” Arathorn commented. “Unless, you have other idea.”

“Yes, actually, I was hoping you could come with me to Esgaroth.” Oropher said. “Trying to convince King Bard of an oncoming war would be a difficult task for me alone; however, if I were to be accompanied by someone who has face these dangers, things could be different.”

Arathorn hesitated for a moment before nodding, “Seems reasonable. Very well, I’ll wait and go with you, King Oropher.”

Oropher bowed his head grateful before offering food and drinks for the Dúnedain, the King guided them to his personal dining room while his thoughts went over and over to his son and his grandson. He felt worried but it was more than the situation at hand, he felt as if something else was happening endangering everyone’s lives but unable to see what it was. He could only wait for now before spurring into action and catch this enemy army before any real damage could be done.

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

The wind on their faces was cold and wet.

Rain had been following them ever since they reached the right point to disembark and start their path on horse and war-goat back. The group didn’t delay their stay at the shore, they parted as soon as everything was set on earth and the sun had been at its highest point in the sky. For two days they had go like this, resting for no more than half an hour before continuing with their path. The idea was to rest properly when there wasn’t much distance separating them from Erebor. The days had been bright, with just the right amount of sun above their heads. But now, on the third day rain had come forward and they were approaching the forest where, months ago, they had shared a hunting trip with King Bard.

Thranduil missed the company of Thorin, he missed riding along side with him as well as those moments they shared during this trip. The Elven-Prince knew whatever was waiting for them in Erebor was going to be hard, something they would have to face with intelligence and determination if they wanted this to end well for them. Thranduil slowed down his horse making sure to stay side by side with Thorin, he looked out of the corner of his eyes to their companions with Dáin and Dwalin riding right behind them, Bofur and Oín next and, at the end of the line was Farin all of them attentive to the road. Conversation had been short and tense, with none of them sharing what they were thinking regarding Thorin’s take of action.

It wasn’t until they reached the outskirts of the forest that Thranduil felt uneasy.

The forest seemed different without the snow and the grey days of winter, Thranduil turned his attention to this place slowing a little while the others spoke of resting and having some food. The Elven-Prince centered his attention in the woods, the green of the forest was vibrant and the smell of growing flora reached his nostrils bringing memories of his own forest. And still, Thranduil felt apprehensive, as if they shouldn’t be resting in this place.

The weight of the quiver and the bow on his back was almost comforting, his hands caressed the neck of his horse while his blue eyes looked deep into the forest catching the movements of animals and other creatures inhabiting the forest. Thranduil set his eyes on a spot to his left where a small hill was resting around two fallen trees, the voices and the noise coming from the dwarves made it difficult to hear anything else, but his eyes were as sharp as always and Thranduil knew something had been watching them.

The horse neighed Thranduil placed a soothing hand on his neck again before taking the bow off of his back, he turned to see Thorin furrowing his brows and watching him with puzzlement.

“Is there everything all right?” The Prince asked.

Thranduil smiled nodding, his hand grabbing the bow while he readied to dismount the horse. He didn’t get the chance to dismount with graceful movements for something jumped right on him. Thranduil groaned missing his bow while the warg growled dangerously at him, the beast lifted his paw only to have it chopped off by Thorin’s axe. Mayhem took over the group of travelers that were soon surrounded by a pack of wargs, Thorin turned around while Thranduil stood up without much difficulty, his right hand went to his side and _Aranrúth_ sang when the Elven-Prince slashed it directly into the head of his first opponent.

Thorin stared at Thranduil out of the corner of his eye, with a frown firmed in place he twirled his axe on his hand smashing the torso of another warg just as he made his way to Thranduil. Everyone seemed pretty busy and rather caught off of guard by the sudden attack, no one had expected this and yet everyone felt foolish for not thinking of this possibility.

Thranduil stepped forward his wrist twirling to the side, the blade of the sword gleaming dangerously black and silver while it slashed the neck of another warg. The Elven-Prince advanced with determination, his every move was measure to evade and give strength to his attacks. Whereas Thranduil was graceful taking in one, two and three of those beasts, Thorin was following him behind, his attacks were made with precision and force, and he didn’t measure the energy behind his strikes always protecting the back of his lover while making sure no one else needed his help.

The Elven-Prince pierced the neck of his enemy kneeling down to see the mark on the beast, he scowled lifting his head to look over at the forest. Everything was silent now, his ears twitched slightly while he narrowed his eyes, the soothing presence of Thorin behind him did nothing to relax him.

“Where the fuck did they come from?” Dáin finally exclaimed.

“Scouts.” Thranduil said. “Warg scouts are rarely alone.”

Dwalin turned to the forest grabbing his axe with both hands, Bofur stood up alongside Captain Farin who had his sword drawn, Thorin turned his attention to the forest just as Thranduil stood up. Soon they heard laughter, cold and filled with rage as shadows moved in between the forest. First came the arrows, and Thorin only felt the push before Thranduil stood before him with his sword moving as an extension of his arm. Then, they were facing a group of no less than twenty goblins all of them armed and fully dressed for battle.

Thorin growled standing up, he twirled around on his feet to stand before Thranduil his axe finding the heavy skull of a goblin while Thranduil found his way to the chest of another. Screams of rage and hate filled the battle field, the sparks of metal hitting metal alongside with the dry noise of skulls being broken and chests being pierced. Thranduil danced around with Thorin close behind him, his arms followed a determined pattern always parrying and evading their attacks, his foot always finding a way to make his enemy falter enough for _Aranrúth_ to satiate his thirst for enemy blood.

Thranduil faltered at the last second, a goblin approaching him smiled his teeth, yellow and rooting, showing through his smile. The Elven-Prince stood up, his sword trembling a little while the cold anger made him stepped forward, the gobbling evaded the attack launching one of its own. Thranduil turned his right arm in front of him, his sword turned upside down cutting through the tendons on the creatures arm. There was a screamed of pain, the goblin threw himself forward but was stopped by Thorin kicking him on the side. Right before Thorin beheaded him the firm hand of the elf stopped him.

“What are you doing?” Thorin asked through his heavy breathing, Thranduil shook his head looking around as Dáin crushed the skull of his last opponent.

“We need to interrogate him.” Thranduil explained. “Not yet.”

“He hurt you.” Thorin said looking at the wound Thranduil was now trying to cover with his free hand.

The Elven-Prince tightened his hold on the dwarf’s hand, “It is nothing. I need him alive, Thorin. Please.”

The last word was said with a sweet, calming tone. Thorin furrowed his brows shaking his head, he glared at the goblin one last time before stepping aside. Thranduil shot a quick glance at Dwalin who merely smirked, he and Dáin grabbed the goblin who was struggling spitting and kicking until both dwarves made him kneel. Thorin shoot the creature a disgust stare before turning to Thranduil, he stood right in front of the elf, his hand moving to the wound. Thranduil glanced down trying to keep any expression of pain off of his face.

“Oín, attend to Thranduil’s wounds.” Thorin commanded looking up to see Thranduil chuckling lightly.

“You know this is nothing.” Thranduil commented placing his free hand on the dwarf’s cheek, Thorin dropped his axe placing his hand on top of Thranduil’s one.

“It’s hurting me, then it must be hurting you.”

Thranduil softened brushing his hand on Thorin’s beard, he lifted his eyes to see the goblin looking over at them with a strange glint in his eyes. Oín approached the Elven-Prince but Thranduil stopped him with a gesture of his hand.

“Wait a moment, Master Oín. First, I want to know what is doing a goblin and warg scout out here, so far away from home.”

Oín hesitated but nodded, Thorin was about to protest but Thranduil shook his head. The Elven-Prince came to stand before the goblin, his sword dripping black blood moving dangerously all through the goblin’s chest. The elf stopped the upper end of his blade right on top off a red mark on the goblin’s armor. Dwalin could see the cold anger coming off of the Prince, he glanced at Dáin but the Lord of the Iron Hills was just as baffled as him. Never before had they seen this side of the elf, there was no kindness, no love, nothing good coming off of the Prince.

“Captain Farin.” Thranduil addressed the other dwarf.

“Yes, my Lord?”

“Bring me one of those helmets with this mark.” Thranduil commanded, Thorin was looking at Thranduil with wonderment. The Captain came soon handing the Prince the helmet, Thranduil grabbed it with his free hand to see the same red mark on it.

“Thranduil, what’s going on?” Thorin finally asked, the goblin chuckled gurgling in glee with his eyes gleaming evilly.

“Poor, poor dwarf Prince…” The goblin grunted when Dáin pushed him hard.

“How do you know he is the Prince?” Thranduil questioned before dropping the helmet.

“You know what’s coming, elf.” The goblin said leaning in smirking. “You know, you can feel it…you and your filth will soon die and my master would claim what’s his.”

“Why are you here? Who send you?” Thranduil questioned the point of his blade piercing the collarbone of the goblin.

“The Master…soon elf, everything will be flames and we will be back.” The goblin laughed and Thranduil made a face of disgust. “It doesn’t make a difference if we could kill you here or not, you and your people will die under the shadow of the mountain.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Thorin leaned forward, the goblin turned to him then back to Thranduil.

“My Master…my Master has put a price on that head of yours…yes, he serves The One that has promised everything will be consumed by fire and dead and blood… war upon the Durin scum.”

Dáin and Dwalin stepped back when Thranduil swiftly decapitated the goblin, Thranduil clenched his jaw containing his anger while putting his sword away. Thorin turned to Thranduil then back at the now dead goblin.

“What the hell was that?” Thorin glanced at Thranduil and he could tell there was something agitating the elf. “What is it? What do you know about this? Thranduil?”

Thranduil looked away wherever he turned the red mark was firmly imprinted, he felt the memories of battles long fought coming back to him. He knew every single of his companions had their attention on him, with a sigh he turned around facing Oín.

“Where do you want me to sit, Master Oín? So you can tend my wounds.” Thranduil finally explained when the dwarf furrowed his brows in confusion.

“Oh, right…here this side is cleaner.” Oín said urging the elf to sit down, Thorin hit a dead body placing his axe on the corpse while approaching Thranduil.

“Are you going to explain?”

Thranduil lifted his face to stare at Thorin, their eyes met and for a moment Thorin felt bad for being so rude. Thranduil sighed wincing slightly when Oín tended to the wound while asking Bofur to warm some water.

“These goblins…they’re mercenaries, and those wargs...scouts.” Dáin came closer as well. “Something is going on, I recognize this mark. I’ve seen it in the gold mines.”

Thranduil nodded, “They have come for you. They knew who they were looking for, Thorin.”

“I could tell.” Thorin grumbled. “Who is their Master? What’s this mark mean to you?”

“Pain, dead…” Thranduil trailed off. “There was a war, a long time ago. A war we fought against the evil residing in the accursed land of Mordor.”

Thranduil noticed the name was familiar to the dwarves, but he gave off a half-smile knowing they didn’t know how grave the situation was. They hadn’t even been born when Sauron was still on this land, much less when the Last Alliance was made and the Battle of Dagorlad was fought. Thorin narrowed his eyes centering his attention on Thranduil, his features softened when he realized this was something painful for the elf.

“We lost many that day. This evil…it is like nothing you have seen on this earth.” Thranduil nodded towards the symbol. “This eye, with those columns coming down of it was the banner of one of his tenants. The Witch-King of Angmar.”

“I’ve heard of this. But I thought this King was defeated by the Dúnedain of the North with the help of the Elves.” Dwalin commented.

“I heard the same.” Thranduil replied shrugging. “It is not possible for him to be alive and yet…the mention of this Master, who else could it be?”

“He was talking about war.” Captain Farin spoke suddenly. “He said something about Erebor. You don’t think…”

“I do think so, yes.” Thranduil answered seriously. “He said he was sent for you, Thorin. This means something big is about to happen.”

“War.” Thorin finally said turning to Dwalin. “You said my father was making deals with Dol-Guldur. Could it be this is what it mean? That maybe my father…”

“No, he wouldn’t have sent a goblin after you, Thorin.” Dwalin said shaking his head. “But, yes, the King was making deals with Dol-Guldur.”

Thranduil watched as his wound was being patched up, he then turned to Thorin grabbing the dwarf’s hand in his. Thorin turned to him and without even giving it a thought he leaned forward and kissed the elf. Everyone around them busied themselves as to not watch the intimate moment, Dáin lifted his hammer cleaning up the blood with a tiny smile adorning his lips. Thorin placed his forehead against Thranduil’s one, his hand caressing the face of the elf.

“Are you well?” Thorin asked softly, the elf smile nodding.

“I will be.” Thranduil leaned in kissing Thorin for a second time trying to satiate his thirst for the dwarf.

“I was thinking,” Dáin interrupted them clearing his throat and speaking loudly. “This smells like war. And something else, this can’t be a coincidence. What if there are more waiting for us near Erebor? Or if a full army of this filth is coming?”

Thranduil nodded looking over at Dáin, “My same thoughts, Lord Dáin. Your sharp mind is always surprising me.”

“Oh, my dear Elven-Prince you should see what other sharp things of mine can surprise you.”

“Dáin!” Thorin exclaimed in a warning tone.

“Peace, cousin, peace, he started it.” Dáin said pointing at Thranduil.

“You didn’t need to finish it.” Thorin replied, then taking into a more serious expression he asked, “What do you propose?”

“Let me go to the Iron Hills, I will have the best of my warriors in less than a day.” Dáin said. “Even if we’re exaggerating, it is better to prevent than to be sorry.”

“I think that’s a good idea, more so if we don’t know how the situation in Erebor is.” Thorin said.

Thranduil squeezed Thorin’s hand softly looking around before settling his eyes on Thorin.

“What is it?”

“I won’t be coming with you to Erebor.” Thranduil said.

“What? Why?” Thorin turned completely to Thranduil opening his eyes worriedly.

“You are right, _Meleth-nîn,_ we do not know how the situation is in Erebor. We need help and I believe King Bard can provide us with this help.”

“No, absolutely no.” Thorin said shaking his head trying to let go of the hand holding his firmly.

“Thorin, please…”

“No, why would you go to him for help?”

“Because he has an army that’s much closer than Dáin’s one and my Realm is just a few hours away from there. I could have not only an army of men but also of Elves ready to help.” Thranduil explained watching as Thorin placed his feet on the ground crossing his arms stubbornly.

“I don’t like this.” Thorin said coldly. “What about Legolas?”

Thranduil tensed looking away, “That’s not fair. You know I will be there right now, but I’m not thinking only about my son. I can’t afford to think only of him right now. Not when I also found out there is a price on your head.”

Bofur turned to Oín mouthing the word ‘son’ to him, the healer shrugged and when the both of then turned to Dwalin they could see there was no surprise there. Dáin rolled his eyes crossing his arms waiting patiently.

“I…” Thorin turned around to see his friends giving him terse smiles before busying themselves around. The Dwarven-Prince returned his attention to Thranduil dropping his shoulders. “I don’t want you there.”

“I know.” Thranduil smiled knowing this had nothing to do with the situation at hand but with the history the elf shared with the King.

“But, I don’t want to be this unreasonable.” Thorin explained.

“I like you unreasonable, it makes you more alluring to me.” Thranduil explained teasingly, Thorin shook his head.

“No, it makes me feel like my father. Possessive…”

“It is good to be possessive, Thorin.” Thranduil leaned forward capturing the dwarf’s attention with his eyes and hands. “You’re not your father, you never will be him. I will never allow it.”

“So, think if I leave a love mark on your neck is fair game?” Thorin asked relaxing when Thranduil laughed putting Thorin to him and kissing him hard on the lips.

Thorin watched as Thranduil entered the forest with Captain Farin by his side, the only condition for this to happen was for Thranduil to not go alone and for Thorin to make sure Legolas would be fine. The Dwarven-Prince felt a piercing pain on his chest as he watched Thranduil riding away from him, his mind filled with insecurities could not keep up with the reassurance of his heart.

“He will be fine, Thorin.” Dáin stood beside his cousin.

“I know.”

“He loves you.”

“I know.”

Thorin turned to Dáin, “Now, let’s go. You still have a long ride ahead of you and we…well, we have some strange things ahead of us.”

The rest of the dwarves mount their war-goats riding down the road leading to Erebor, a dark cloud was left behind them where they had burnt the corpses of the wargs and goblins. The sky darkened and soon the blue and silver light of thunder and lightning filled the sky. A storm was approaching and, as Thorin and Thranduil ride to their destinations they couldn’t help but try to reach one another through their link.

A small reassurance when the distance between them kept on growing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a little more action in it and has shown some difficult decisions Thranduil and Thorin had to made. I hope you like it, there will be more fluff and sexy times but first...well, first there is going to be war. By the way, the part in which Gandalf goes to Dol-Guldur happens just like the movie, I'm not going to center my attention on this part, although Gandalf will be joining the battle in Erebor.
> 
> Next chapter we will see that Bard have been tempted by Dol-Guldur. Civil War is taking over Erebor, the enemy armies arrived and King Thráin gets an unfair advantage over his son.


	18. Stalemate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil has arrived to Dale looking for help, Oropher discovers his son has already pledge himself to a dwarf and Thorin arrives to Erebor to find his home has been under unfair treatment. Just when everyone seems ready to move forward and change things the Horns of war are blown and war is about to start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay!! Life has been good but busy, I just got a new job and I'm happy but busy and all. I hope you guys like this chapter, sorry about the grammar, spelling and other mistakes, remember English is not my mother tongue so, thanks for your patience and understanding.

**Chapter 18**

**Stalemate**

The King of Esgaroth stood alone in his study with a tormented mind by the recent troubles striking his Kingdom in different fronts.

The King leaned against the windowsill, his eyes softened under the sight of his youngest children playing around the backyard. For a brief moment, Bard forgot his duties and the sorrows gripping his heart, there was nothing like the laughter of Tilda or the determination behind Bain’s expression. Both of them had been training for quite some time, Tilda wanting to be beside her big brother, and Bain wanting to make sure Tilda knew how to defend herself. It was a win-win situation between them.  Bard chuckled when Tilda dropped her wooden sword to tickle Bain, her nanny watching with a shake of her head and a purse of her lips.

Bard sighed.

It was in moments like this he missed his wife. It was in moments like this when he felt lonely and his heart shrank with bad contain longing for either his wife or the Prince he had learned to love in the last couple of years.

The King turned his back to the window to face the shadows hunting his dreams and hopes. He sat down on his chair, his hand hovering above his desk, his eyes moving from the new treaty with Erebor to the one sent by the Fortress of Dol-Guldur. Bard dropped his hand furrowing his brows in worry when he recalled the words of the messenger of the Fortress and the Intel he had gathered regarding Thranduil. He had heard about the Princes trip to the Land of Khand, his heart had longed for the Elven-Prince and the chances Thorin Oakenshield seemed to have to keep courting the Prince. It wasn’t until three days ago he got the news about the strange happenings in Erebor and the lack of news from Thorin and Thranduil. Bard glanced at the treaty again, the words used to write it had been cold and threatening hidden behind a diplomatic speech. Bard had two options he either signed the treaty or Thráin would make sure Esgaroth was no more.

As if that wasn’t enough, he was sent a second treaty. This one more alluring, with a hint of sweetness in his wording and with a tempting offer. The heart of the King darkened when he thought of the advantages he could obtain through this deal, the image of Thranduil was fresh on his mind whenever he thought of the offer. Bard sighed looking away from his desk to his library, in there he could see the drawings his children had done all through the years, some of them were drawings of him, and some others included their mother.  Bard remembered the void left by his wife’s death, he remembered the desperation and sadness he felt when she died and he took charge of his children. The void seemed to grow deeper and deeper until he got to share his time with Thranduil; but the King had been a fool and he knew this. Thranduil had promise pleasure, not love.

But, even if the wording of Dol-Guldur deal had been sweet and entrancing, Bard was no fool. Even if he felt tempted to say yes when his heart’s desire was offered, he knew the sweetness behind the words of the messenger and the words written on the contract were poison that had been scattered around hidden from the prying eyes of the naïve. Still, Bard knew his situation was disturbing, the darkness had been closing around him on every front. With the new treaty with Erebor and the sudden attacks on some of the convoys sent to Rohan and Gondor, Bard had been accumulating loses instead of wins.

_“My Master will happily give you your heart’s desire, if you just accede to this small petition.”_

_“He will come to you willingly, no tricks, no sorcery, he will be yours by his own will with my Master’s right incentives. Yours…everything you ever wanted…A great Kingdom, and the Prince of the Elves by your side…”_

The King’s musings were interrupted by a knock on his door.

Bard lifted his eyes staring at the door bewildered noticing his hand was already grabbing the treaty brought to him by a black bat. He shook his head reclining against the chair before inviting the person who had knocked to come on in. The door of his study opened revealing the sweet, yet firm, form of his daughter, Sigrid was serious, with just a hint of anger in her eyes. The King shoot her a curious stare, his lips curling up eager to know who had dare to invoke his daughter’s wrath.

“Father, you have a _visitor_.”

For a moment there, Bard thought this visitor was no other than Dol-Guldur’s messenger coming over to collect Bard’s answer to the proposition. The King had decided his children should be his first concern, thus this deal would only bring sorrow to his people and his family. His heart’s desire didn’t matter at the moment for the love of his children was far greater than anything else. However, all of this came crashing down when the door opened completely to reveal the regal form of Thranduil.

The Elven-Prince had always been a sight to behold.

It wasn’t as if Thranduil had changed much since Bard last saw him a couple of weeks ago. There was, however, something different about the Elven-Prince. Thranduil had a softer light in his blue eyes, his skin and his whole presence seemed brighter, his hair fell upon his face and shoulders in a rebellious mess without making him look unfit. On the contrary, along with the Dwarven-like clothing, Thranduil was looking stronger and alluring. The colors of the earth contrasted perfectly with his skin and the gold of his hair. Bard stood up under his daughter’s watchful stare, he stepped away from his desk his eyes taking in the healthy form of the elf, trying to make sure Thranduil was well.

His eyes moved swiftly until they fell upon a curious mark on the elf’s neck.

A hickey.

Bard swallowed lifting his eyes to lock them with those blue orbs, Thranduil inclined his head in a greeting gesture and Bard tried to hold himself like the King he was.

“King Bard.” The greeting coming from the elf was not necessary warm, but it wasn’t cold either. It was friendly and Bard could sense the loss of passion and fire in between them, a sign Thranduil had already found peace in another’s arms.

Sigrid closed the door behind her leaving the dwarf that had come with Thranduil guarding the door. She scowled lightly with her eyes going from her father to the Elven-Prince, Bard sighed leaning against his desk while eyeing Thranduil with a half-smile, his eyes barely smiling.

“Prince Thranduil.” Bard stated finding strength in the presence of his daughter and the selfless thought of Thranduil’s happiness. “You are looking exceptionally different as how I remember you. I hope everything is all right?”

Thranduil stiffened looking directly into Bard’s eyes, the elf furrowed his brows for a moment wondering if there was something hidden behind the question. He knew his presence was not wanted or even expected in Dale, Thranduil realized being in the Kingdom of men could mean he would hurt Bard all over again. But, he could not afford his personal feelings to get in the way, no when war and the dark clouds above their heads seemed about ready to burst.

“It has been a strange time for me and the inhabitants of Erebor.” Thranduil drawled glancing from Bard to Sigrid. “I have been away to the land of Khand and the elven Kingdom of Dorwinion; by mere chance, Thorin and I survived a fatidic accident.”

Bard broke his stance taking another step forward, his eyes went from Sigrid to Thranduil before he voiced his concern.

“Are you all right? Is Prince Thorin all right?” Bard questioned while signaling to a chair with his hand, Thranduil hesitated before he sat down.

“We are. However, this event brought upon us some strange revelations.” Thranduil spoke softly measuring every word.

Bard quirked a brow, tilting his head he nodded towards Thranduil, “And still, it gave you and Prince Thorin time to leave some things clear before you decided to come here.”

Thranduil took his left hand to his neck covering the mark Thorin had placed with a clever an eager mouth. The Elven-Prince felt mortified glancing at Bard and finding the man was smirking highly amused by this, Thranduil could see the pain in those eyes, but he could also see understanding and resignation. He wished more than ever things had been different in a way in which he hadn’t hurt Bard.

“Yes, well…Apparently, dwarves can make time when they want to.” Thranduil replied dryly, Bard chuckled giving an honest smile to the elf he glanced at his daughter who was more relaxed now.

“I’m…I’m happy for you.” Bard said and his voice, while trembling at the beginning was filled with honesty. “I’m happy for the both of you…”

Thranduil turned to Sigrid then back to Bard, “I didn’t come here to show you this or to…hurt you. It wasn’t my intention.”

Thranduil wanted to explain to Bard Thorin was being childish, but he could no say this even if Bard, apparently, understood the dwarf’s tactics. If Bard were to be honest, he would have done the same as Thorin. Bard broke into a half-smile shaking his head before answering to Thranduil.

“I know this was not your intention.” Bard turned his head to the desk, the treaty from Dol-Guldur teasing his resolution with the object of his affections so close to him. The King tilted his head and his eyes found those of Sigrid, his daughter had a tender smile on her face, her eyes were gleaming with understanding and Bard was remained of his wife and something inside him shifted with love.

“Are you…happy?” Bard finally questioned eyeing Thranduil who was caught off guard, the Elven-Prince straightened up nodding briefly.

“I am.” He finally said unable to hide the shadow of a smile from his face.

Bard nodded, “You really look magnificent. Strange, with this kind of clothes, but magnificent.”

Sigrid eyed her father carefully, her eyes then drifted to Thranduil while she tried to understand what was really happening. For the young girl, it was no mystery what had happened between his father and the Elven-Prince, she had been there watching as his father gave himself to the affair only to end up tangled around the fire and the passion that was Thranduil. She knew the moment her father arrived a few weeks ago his heart had been finally shattered and, while a part of her blamed Thranduil for this, she knew her father was just as responsible for this. The young woman wanted only for her father’s happiness, and Bard was looking like someone who was trying to reach forward to get it. The Elven-Prince, however, was looking rather stoic, with his position never changing and his face only daring to show flashes of emotion; a part of Sigrid wondered if Thranduil had loved her father at one point, another part told Sigrid it was not the love her father was looking for from the elf.

“I won’t deny this new style is rather strange yet quite fitting.” Thranduil replied offering a half-smile, Bard chuckled agreeing with the elf. “I wish my visit was more social relate, but I’m afraid I’m a bearer of bad news.”

“I do not believe you will ever be a bearer of bad news, Prince Thranduil.” Sigrid stepped forward when his father seemed to return his attention to his desk. “I believe your visit has arrived just on time, perhaps you can help us out.”

Thranduil turned to the young woman, he examined her with care finding traces of Bard and his late wife all over Sigrid. The girl had been raised from an early age to take over the throne, she stood like a Queen already and Thranduil knew, for his little incursions in Dale, that everyone loved her the way they loved her father. It would not be difficult for Sigrid to take over the Kingdom once Bard was gone.

“How can I be of help?” Thranduil inquired reclining on the chair, Sigrid sat down while her father leaned against his desk. “Is there something the matter?”

Thranduil awaited for an answer, he didn’t miss the stares shared between father and daughter nor the sudden tension in the room. The Elven-Prince turned to Bard who leaned against his desk picking up a parchment, Thranduil could recognized the distinctive signs of Erebor’s formal documents and the ostentatious signature of the King. Bard handed the contract over to the Prince, Thranduil grabbed the parchment reading the wording of the new treaty a frown forming on his face as he read the words and the demands done by King Thráin, the silent threat of war and destruction implicit on every word.

“We received this a few days ago.” Bard commented. “It surprised me since I thought the King would not change the outlines of the treaty. I was wrong, apparently.”

Thranduil lowered the scroll directing his attention to the King of Dale, “I was not familiar with the change of terms in this treaty. But, then again, Thorin and I have been away long enough for the King to _do_ things his way.”

Sigrid narrowed her eyes leaning forward, Bard crossed his arms eyeing Thranduil before the Elven-Prince started talking again.

“Some strange happenings have been affecting Erebor.” Thranduil spoke clearly without a single trace of doubt in his words, he knew he could not reveal everything that had been happening with Thráin, but he could tell Bard enough for the man to agree to help them. “And, these strange happenings, have lead us to believe war is approaching Erebor and the region of Rhovanion.”

These words made Bard tensed, the man furrowed his brows while shooting a quick glance to his daughter both of them turned their attention to Thranduil prompting the elf to speak freely. Thranduil narrated the events leading to the Princes journey to Khand, the Elven-Prince knew he could not reveal everything so he omitted the parts he knew would endanger the image of Erebor as a Kingdom or reveal some important details of the Kingdom. Thranduil went straight to the point narrating the most important parts of their journey, the attempt against Thorin’s life and their last encounter with the orcs and wargs scouts. Bard and Sigrid heard this with great attention, their eyes would cross from time to time revealing to Thranduil this conversation about orcs and wargs was familiar to them; by the time Thranduil was finishing telling them of the attack they suffered near Long Forest, Bard was already twitching eyeing Thranduil for any evidence of wounds or something that would indicate the elf had been hurt. However, he could only see the love mark left on his neck by Thorin and Bard realized the ease in which Thranduil had included himself on the story, the man couldn’t help but wonder if there was something Thranduil had omitted. The man leaned against his desk, his hand approaching the second parchment he had been hiding under all his paperwork, his fingertips were caressing the borders of the parchment when Thranduil mentioned Dol-Guldur.

Thranduil lifted his face, he noticed the subtle change in father and daughter his blue eyes narrowed slightly before he spoke again, and this time around posing a question he already knew the answer of.

“This is no strange to you, is it?” Thranduil shook his head. “Has Dol-Guldur tried to contact you as well?”

“A few days ago, it was late and a messenger came in.” Sigrid spoke before his father could do it. “He spoke with father alone but, I didn’t like what I saw when he left. Father?”

Bard shifted on his position, his hand grabbed the second parchment where his eyes read the small paragraph that had been hunting him for a couple of days. The King of Esgaroth straightened up directing his eyes to his daughter, his lips curling slightly to form a smile meant only for his children; Sigrid had been his first born and the heir to the Throne, thus Bard had always made sure she always knew what was happening in the Kingdom. However, when the messenger came Bard had found himself enchanted by his own desires and the prospect of happiness being a signature away from him. In the long run, he could not do it, even if his heart was broken, Bard was not a bad person and his children came before even his own needs. Sigrid stared at his father worriedly, her heart beating painfully for him; Thranduil witness this moment before he was subject of the intense stare of the man.

“The messenger came here with sweet words and promises.” Bard handed over the treaty to his daughter first, the young woman grabbed it reading as Bard kept speaking. The man turned completely to Thranduil his expression always open, the same expression Thranduil had come to associate with the King.

“He promised me a better position in this part of the world, my Kingdom would grow and Erebor and Mirkwood would be protectorates more than allies and business partners that help the survival of Esgaroth.” Bard shrugged when Thranduil shifted. “It sounded too good to be real, of course. To do so, the cost would be great.”

“The words of Dol-Guldur are usually sweet and what we need to hear.” Thranduil commented.

“Indeed.” Bard smiled bitterly. “He promised me my heart’s desire. He told me you will come willingly to me, if I signed the treaty and joined forces with them against the tyranny that was Erebor.”

Thranduil lowered his gaze with his mind reeling with the new information he just got, the elf couldn’t help but tense when he sensed Bard standing before him. The man lifted his hand to place two fingers on Thranduil’s chin, he lifted the elf’s face softly and their eyes met. For a moment, the Elven-Prince let his own doubts surface, his body ready to react to any kind of negative outcome on this meeting, yet Bard could only sighed, with his brows furrowed.

“I could never make you part of a deal, Thranduil.” Bard shook his head stepping away. “Even if he promised you would come willingly, I knew this was an empty promise. Your heart has already be claimed, much like your neck was before you came here.”

Thranduil felt the tip of his ears warm in embarrassment, he looked away with his lips softening slightly and Bard could see the truthfulness of his own words.

“I never felt this kind of desire, it seemed as if the world was before me and all I have to do was say yes.” Bard shook his head. “It was then that I understood how dangerous this man and the Fortress were. To buy me some time, I didn’t agree but I didn’t say no to him, instead I ask for a contract. Something to make everything real. They sent a bat with this.”

Bard pointed at the parchment, his eyes went from Sigrid and then Thranduil.

“You are a good man, Bard.” Thranduil finally said standing up. “I already told you this, my intention was never to hurt you. I’m glad even in this dark times, I can count on you.”

“As a friend.” Bard said and this time around there was no bitterness or sadness, only honesty and a hint of question in there.

“Friends.” Thranduil nodded, Sigrid smiled slightly standing up as well.

The young woman approached both males tearing the treaty sent by Dol-Guldur, “What now? You told us there is a threat of war that it is going to affect Erebor, what is it you have really come for, Prince Thranduil?”

“Help.” Thranduil replied. “Erebor won’t stand a surprise attack and I’m afraid this is what’s going to happen if we don’t act promptly.”

“But, Erebor is a stronghold.” Bard commented. “You must know this better than I. Erebor has more military forces than Esgaroth and, let’s face it, his position is more favorable than ours. Are you certain this wasn’t an attempt by the orcs scout to rile you up?”

Thranduil shook his head, “If my fears are founded, then there is more to this inhabitants of Dol-Guldur than they let on. I’m afraid they’re seeking Erebor for its strategic position.”

Bard turned around standing before his desk while looking around his paperwork for a map of Rhovanion. Sigrid crossed her arms eyeing Thranduil for a moment before speaking.

“Even if what you say it’s true, Prince Thranduil, how could our help change things?” Sigrid narrowed her eyes when Thranduil looked away.

The Elven-Prince debated with himself before he spoke, “I’m afraid the situation is idler than it appears to be.”

“Whatever you mean by this?” Bard questioned, however, whatever Thranduil was about to say was interrupted by Bain entering the room without knocking first, Tilda was following him with a huge grin adorning her face.

“Elves, daddy! Elves!” Tilda ran to his father’s arms, the man quirked a brow to see Bain wasn’t looking as happy as Tilda.

“Father, King Oropher is here and demands to see you as soon as possible. He is not alone, though. There is a camp full of elven warriors outside the wall.” Bain glanced at Thranduil then back at his father. “King Oropher also came with a group of strange men, what should I tell them?”

Thranduil glanced at Bard and Bard looked back at him, the both of them had a silent agreement before Bard strolled to follow his son. Captain Farin sneaked a glance inside the office, he eyed Prince Thranduil for a moment, his hand firmly placed on his sword. Thranduil was about to follow Bard when a hand around his left forearm stopped him; he turned to see Sigrid glancing at him.

“Can I have a word, Prince Thranduil?” Sigrid asked politely though Thranduil couldn’t help but think this wasn’t a polite request.

“Of course.” Thranduil faced the girl admiring her bearing, the firmness behind her eyes and posture. When she spoke, she did so with determination never leaving space for misunderstanding.

“My father loves you.” Sigrid said staring at the Prince with her face lifted. “You weren’t here whenever he came from one of your meetings, or how anxious he got whenever he knew he was seeing you.”

Thranduil stared at Sigrid, the young woman shook her head, “I know you said it wasn’t your intention to hurt him. And I believed you.”

“I know it may not be much, but I do harbor feelings for him. Perhaps, not the same ones he has for me but Bard is a dear friend of mine.” Thranduil commented lightly.

Sigrid smiled nodding, “I know. I just…Hmph, I was going to reprimand you for what you did. It really hurt him, I saw sadness in his eyes for a long time. But today, he was different. And now, I cannot scold you the way I want to.”

Thranduil offered a half-smile to the woman, “If it is of any consolation, I wasn’t so sure I should give you this moment. I was dreading an encounter like this.”

“It does make me feel better.” Sigrid chuckled. “I just want him to be happy and, apparently, seeing you happy is enough for him.”

“Not me, you and your siblings.” Thranduil replied. “He lives for the three of you and his Kingdom. His love for me will pass, but you and your siblings mean the world to him.”

“I know.” Sigrid offered a light bow to the Prince.

Thranduil returned the gesture before his whole bearing changed into a colder, detached one. He remembered the news young Bain had brought and the prospect of seeing his father in the land of men was not something he was anticipating.

*****

The Kingdom of Esgaroth was a strange city build in water and stone.

The city was protected by nature and by its own structure; the main part of the Kingdom was located in the lake’s shore with the castle of the Kings standing proudly facing the lake. The main district where the market and the cultural heart of Esgaroth were located was built in an artificial island joined to the land by a series of marble bridges donated by Erebor when the great-grandfather of King Thrór reigned was King under the Mountain. The Castle was located in the mainland along with the military structure and the different entities of the government and the civil society, everything interconnected by a serious of roads and water channels. The Kingdom of Esgaroth was the only land of men growing in the middle of an Elven Kingdom and a Dwarven Kingdom, their relationship had been one of friendship at the very beginning but, with the growing darkness in the world and the changing hearts of the mortals and the hardened hearts of the immortals now the region of Rhovanion was kept stable by simple alliances.

As soon as they arrived, the city had closed his doors and the guards had been posted on the wall. King Oropher along with his personal guard and Lord Arathorn approached the city with a white flag guiding them. The King had been highly amused when young Bain had been the one receiving them along with Lord Alfrid, one of the members of the elder’s council of Dale. Lord Arathorn for his part, was quite impressed by the city, he followed the young Prince down stony roads and whispering people.

They were taken to the Royal Palace, the hooves of their horses breaking the sudden silence that welcomed them to the city. The gates of the Palace led them to an ample garden with two great fountains adorned with green and blue. The great gate of the Palace opened revealing some guards who salute them with a hand to their foreheads.

Arathorn chuckled when the young Prince asked politely for them to wait in the main hall, Lord Alfrid opened his eyes ready to protest but it was already too late. The young Prince had took off running with his little sister running behind him. King Oropher snorted while Arathorn merely shook his head, Lord Alfrid turned to them apologetic.

“I apologize, my Lords. His Royal Majesty is still learning the workings of the protocols.” Lord Alfrid shifted uncomfortably when Oropher pinned him with his cold stare. “I would, of course, offer a better placement but…”

“Do not bother yourself, Lord Alfrid.” King Oropher waved his hand, his armor shone under the light of the sun sneaking through the large windows. “Our visit is not a social one, though, what we must discuss with King Bard should be done in a more private setting.”

“Then a private setting is what you shall get, King Oropher.” The voice of Bard resounded on the great hall, the King and his companion both turned to the King who wore a frown on his features. “This is an agreeable surprise, King Oropher. To what do I owe the honor of your visit?”

“King Bard.” King Oropher greeted bowing his head while pointing at Arathorn with his right hand. “Before we speak of this, allow me to introduce to you Lord Arathorn, leader and commander in chief of the Dúnedain of the North.”

Nothing else was said, Alfrid and Bard turned to Arathorn with equal bewildered expressions on their faces. Bard glanced at Alfrid before setting his eyes on the newcomers, he approached them stretching his hand to Arathorn who bowed his head while taking the offered hand.

“It is a real honor, Lord Arathorn.”

“The honor is mine, your Majesty.” Arathorn replied, the man’s eyes flickered to the stairs where two different figures appeared from behind Bard.

Bard turned to see Thranduil and Sigrid approaching, Oropher narrowed his eyes staring at Thranduil with puzzlement and alarm. The Elven-Prince furrowed his brows, his eyes gleaming recognizing the gleaming war armor his father was wearing and the urgency behind Arathorn.

“Thranduil, whatever are you doing here?” King Oropher stepped forward with a hint of accusation in his voice.

“I believe, father that I’m here for the same reason you seem to be here.” Thranduil replied.

Alfrid glanced at Sigrid then back at the scene in front of him, his eyes then went to some of the more curious servants, the man clapped smiling at everyone.

“My Lords, my Liege, perhaps you should take this to your private study?” Alfrid glanced at Bard who nodded.

“Indeed.” Oropher didn’t take his eyes off of his son, Thranduil could already sense the anger in his father. “Some matters are better said in a private setting, shall we, King Bard?”

Arathorn glanced at Bard who was suddenly scowling, “Of course. Alfrid, make sure the elves from Mirkwood are being attended, also bring some wine and tea for us.”

“My Liege.” Alfrid bowed placing his hands on Bain and Tilda’s shoulders. “My dear Prince and Princess, I believe this is the part where I have to teach you how to follow protocol.”

Bain opened his mouthy to protest but a single glance from Sigrid told him it would be useless to argued, he pursed his lips following Alfrid to the kitchens. The young woman turned to see his father guiding the elves and the man to his study, Bard had opted for speaking about formalities and King Oropher seemed to answer in kind, but there was an obvious tension around them. She sighed looking at the open gate before turning around and following her father.

King Oropher looked around the office, whenever he came to Esgaroth he was taken to the main council chamber. However, since the council chamber was on the first floor and without as much privacy as this small room, King Oropher thought this was a better option. The King’s eyes fell upon the different pictures post around the bookshelf, Oropher softened his stared recalling times in which childish laughter filled his ears and Thranduil ran to him with his own drawings. The King turned around to see his son staring back at him, Oropher didn’t need to force himself much to know Thranduil was different. The eyes of the King moved with care, his instincts activated instantly when they fell upon the mark on his son’s neck, Oropher flinched his eyes gleaming dangerously when they found those of Thranduil again.

The Elven-Prince felt his father stare his own instincts reacting to the silent anger and the confusion on the King. Their silent musings were interrupted by Bard clearing his throat, hiss attention torn between the elves, the man and his own daughter.

“This has been a strange day, to say the least.” Bard finally said thinking over if offering the chairs to King Oropher, who was heavily armed and Lord Arathorn was needed. “Prince Thranduil has already talked to me about his concerns and his intentions but yours my dear Lords are still unknown for me.”

“What could be more important for my son than being with his betrothed and his younger brother, I wonder.” King Oropher commented softly, leaning back against the chair he took, his cold eyes turning from Bard to Thranduil, the Elven-Prince tensed remembering his son and Thorin worrying over what could be happening to them. “Although, I have to say, you at least worry to have with you a good guard.”

The King turned his eyes to Captain Farin who frowned deeply, the dwarf lifted his chin without saying anything. Thranduil glanced at the dwarf then back at his father. Bard leaned back against his desk, watching the interaction. Thranduil scoffed feeling the eyes of his father on him, with a tilt of his head the Elven-Prince spoke reverently to his father with only a hint of reproach in his voice.

“It was war what brought me here.” Thranduil made sure his eyes never left those of Oropher, the King tensed hearing attentively. “An unfortunate event made Prince Thorin and I realized something had been prepared in the dark, I came here seeking help while my betrothed and Legolas faced some inconveniences in Erebor.”

 King Oropher quirked a brow, his bearing didn’t change to the mortal’s eyes but to Thranduil it was evident his father knew more about this that he let on. The King stepped forward with the attention of the room on him.

“I believe this has something to do with you being an unexpected guest in King Erumion’s domains.” Oropher nodded curtly when Thranduil showed his surprise at this.

“Yes, that’s correct. My question is, father, why are you here? What has happened for you to bring an army at Esgaroth’s gates?”

“Much like yourself, Thranduil, war has bring me here.” Oropher then turned to Bard, his face never changing. “I was made aware of a threat mobilizing towards Erebor as we speak. Azog the defiler was commanding these forces with only one purpose: destroy the Line of Durin and take over Erebor.”

Thranduil paled when he heard the name of Azog, it didn’t take him too long to guess what was really going on and why his fears had really been founded. Thranduil remembered the battle the dwarves had between Azog’s forces in Moria in a poor attempted to recover the lost Kingdom. The day King Thrór had died leaving the Throne of Erebor on his son’s hands; Thranduil would never admit it, not even if his heart belonged to Thorin now but he had been quite impressed when he heard of the great deeds the young Prince had done during the Azalnubizar and how he had been the one leading the Dwarven forces to face the different dangers until, in the end, he was supposed to have defeat Azog. The Elven-Prince felt sick, his hand went immediately to the hilt of his sword and he hated the fact distance could not help him in seeking the comfort of his lover.

“You understand the gravity of this, don’t you?” Oropher turned to Thranduil then to Bard who had cleared his throat looking slightly confused.

“I’m sorry but I do not see it completely. Who is Azog?” Bard questioned glancing around the room, Thranduil realized the incident had happened by the time Bard had been but a kid his memory of the incident should be short and fuzzy since King Girion had been on the throne at that time.

“He is a despicable orc.” Lord Arathorn explained. “A pale orc who had been leading the forces of orcs and goblin under the Misty Mountains and the former Kingdom of Moria. He had a personal vendetta against the house of Durin since it was them the ones to defy his reign and to make him stand aside from his power.”

Bard furrowed his brows, “I see. So, he is seeking revenge against King Thráin?”

“And Thorin.” Thranduil finally commented. “The stories said it was Thorin the one who defeated Azog.”

“Highly exaggerate, since they also said the prince had killed him when evidently he could not.” Oropher interrupted eyeing his son strangely. “But, we’re not here to discuss history and much less to extend our helping hand to the House of Durin.”

“Then, King Oropher, why are you here?” Bard finally inquired bothered by the swift dismissal with which King Oropher had spoken, his words having a negative effect on Thranduil.

“If Azog was our only worry, then I would have not worry to come here, King Bard.” Oropher spoke firmly, clearly without leaving any doubt of the gravity behind his words. “However, I’m afraid this creature is only a tenant to a more powerful opponent who is seeking Erebor to re-establish a former enemy fortress.”

“How do you know all of this? How are you so sure this danger is imminent?”

This time around it was Sigrid the one interfering in the conversation, she had listened to everyone while paying close attention to the Lords in the room. The young woman stepped forward to stand beside her father, a glint of determination crossed her eyes and King Oropher stared at her with wonderment and amusement.

“We gathered information thanks to a wizard, perhaps you have heard of him, Gandalf the Grey was the one who brought forward this disturbing news.”

“I have heard of him, yes.” Bard nodded gravelly, his mind was already working on how to explain this to the council and what consequences this sudden threat of war could have on his country. There were somethings he didn’t understand and many others had not been explained, a lot of questions and doubts rose in him but he sensed there was simply no time to dwell on this.

“You can’t go there alone, you have come for my help. Both of you. My question is, why? Is this threat that great we need to reunite an army of men, elves and dwarves?” Bard commented gravelly with his daughter crossing her arms, both of them understood the situation was far more complicate than either Oropher or Thranduil had led on. “King Oropher, you must know of the greatness of the Dwarven army, surely King Thráin can be capable of holding this threat on his own.”

Thranduil shifted uncomfortably while King Oropher glanced at the mortal, the King turned his attention then to strange sound coming from the dwarf standing zealously beside his son. Bard and Sigrid turned their attention to the dwarf who was looking around the room before centering his attention on the Elven-Prince.

“Prince Thranduil, may I speak freely?” The dwarf finally asked lowering his gaze while bowing to Thranduil.

King Oropher looked slightly impressed he stared at his son who was focused on the dwarf.

“Of course, Captain Farin, what has been bothering you all this time?” Thranduil said Farin lifted his eyes to Thranduil, a moment of doubt went through his eyes before he spoke again.

“I believe, Prince Thranduil, if what has been discussed here is the true and danger and war is upon us then you should tell them what has been going on in Erebor.”

Now more than ever Thranduil wished he was beside Thorin, his heart longed to be beside the dwarf and feel the comfort of his presence. Thranduil hadn’t noticed the coldness of the world until he heard this anguish news and Thorin wasn’t there with him, if he could do something to reach out for Legolas and Thorin he would do it. Looking around the room, Thranduil realized he needed all the help he could get before marching towards Erebor, the only thing he could do was wait for Thorin and Legolas to be fine.

“Captain Farin is right, of course. There is something you need to know before we get to an agreement. And the reason as to why Erebor needs the help of my home and yours, King Bard.” Thranduil commented pursing his lips before he started sharing the peculiar behavior of King Thráin and the tension inside Erebor.

*****

The hour was growing late, the sky was colored by red and orange with the dark shades of blue and purple retreating rapidly. Thranduil stood in the yard watching at the sky while he heard the people of Esgaroth getting ready to march forth to Erebor. The heart of the elf shrank with emotion while he tried fruitlessly to get in contact with his connection with Thorin. The world seemed colder and darker, the mountain was a faraway shadow teasing him with the images of those he hold dear.

Thranduil tensed when he caught the scent of his father approaching. The anger was still there as well as the confusion, Thranduil turned to see his father’s cold eyes pinning him to the spot. King Oropher nodded forward in a silent command for his son to follow him; Thranduil strolled side by side to his father until the sound of the conversations and orders of men was drown by the distance. King Oropher put his hands on his back, his steps were meditate while his chin lifted to stare at the same sky his son had been contemplating moments ago.

“What have you done?” Oropher inquired sharply without looking over at his son, they didn’t stop walking until the sound of the fountains decorating the back yard of the Royal Palace seemed to cover their conversation.

Prince Thranduil straightened up facing his father with the cold resolution he had learnt from an early age. Oropher tilted his head to take in the change elf in front of him, no longer was his son holding himself in defiance, detachment and silent obedience. The king pursed his lips shaking his head while contemplating the form of his son who seemed to favor silence over conversation.

“What have you done, Thranduil? What happen in that Mountain between you and Prince Thorin?”

“Whatever you mean by this?” Thranduil inquired trying to stare at his father while taking control over his emotions, the King narrowed his eyes frustration showing on his features.

“Don’t play coy with me, Thranduil. I can _sense_ it, I can _smell_ the changes in you.” Oropher spoke vehemently with a hint of disappointment in his voice.

“I thought I was doing what you want me to, father.” Thranduil replied his voice trembling slightly, his eyes gleaming in anger and defiance. “Bed the Prince of Erebor and make sure this alliance between our Kingdoms work.”

Oropher couldn’t help but recall the words shared during the meeting with the White Council and with Celeborn. He recalled all those times in which Thranduil had acted following his foolish heart instead of his sharp mind, the moments in which his defiance had almost brought upon the Realm shame. Oropher stepped closer only to see Thranduil lifting his chin ready to respond to whatever was about to happen, the King locked his eyes with those of his son trying to mitigate his own anger when he saw Thranduil was afraid but also resolute to do whatever he needed to do.

“Your mission was to make sure Erebor would not be a threat to us, you were to marry the Prince to have some control over the dwarves.” Oropher said softly, the King snorted shaking his head before posing the question he already knew the answer of. “What is Prince Thorin to you, Thranduil?”

Thranduil almost faltered in his posture, the King quirked a brow lifting a hand to the neck of his son his fingertips touching the mark Thorin had left on him. Thranduil felt his ears burn again, the memory of such an intimate moment giving him strength to face his father.

“Well? What is this dwarf to you?” Oropher asked again.

Thranduil felt his lips quiver, the answer ready on his lips.

“Everything.” Thranduil finally answered with his eyes the only witness of his growing love for the dwarf.

Oropher scoffed stepping away from his son, “What have I done to deserve such a disappointing heir?”

Thranduil felt his heart sting at those words, he looked away with his eyes on the shadow of the mountain in the horizon.

“I do not believe me falling in love with Thorin Oakenshield should be counted as a disappointing trait.” Thranduil spoke.

“Perhaps, but bonding with one may as well count as a disappointing trait.” Oropher clenched his fists hating the fact Celeborn was once again right.

“He is my betrothed, is he not? Bedding him and bonding with him should not be a reason for your shame, father.”

Oropher gave his son a half-tired smile, “And here I thought you have given yourself to King Bard.”

Thranduil was not surprised to discover his father knew about his affair with Bard, he was quite surprised the King thought there was love in between this affair, though. Oropher stared at his son with strange emotions showing on his eyes, the Elven-Prince looked away before turning his attention back to Oropher.

“Do you know my deal with Erebor was that, when you marry their Prince the Throne of the Woodland Realm would be given to you?” Oropher asked eyeing his son who nodded. “What you told us about King Thráin, he won’t abdicate. His ambition has grown stronger since I last saw him the year prior, he would try to obtain our gift by force.”

“I already thought about it.” Thranduil replied furrowing his brows.

King Oropher smiled a little, “King Thráin must die, Thranduil. Gold sickness has no other cure, have this in mind when you see Prince Thorin again because he will have to make a decision regarding this situation.”

Thranduil felt the finality behind this affirmation, he nodded briefly thinking on how Thorin might take this suggestion. Thranduil already knew the answer to this question, he knew Thorin would not lift a finger to hurt his father thus Thranduil would have to do something about it.

Oropher could almost sense the working of his son’s logic, he could see how Thranduil was reaching his own conclusions regarding this mess. The King observed his son again, noticing the multiple changes in him. It hurt him, it hurt him knowing Thranduil had been weak, that his heart seemed more prone to govern his son than his mind. It irked him knowing Celeborn had been right, that Galadriel had been right; however, Oropher was not ready to lose his son, not in the same way he lost his wife when she was trying to reunite Haldir with Thranduil after everyone found out about the child Thranduil was bearing.

“You really love him.” Oropher stated glancing at his son, Thranduil turned startle he nodded briefly and the King nodded changing into an expressionless face. “Come, we need to get everything ready to march towards Erebor, I’m afraid time is not on our side.”

No sooner had the King said this a deep, resounding note from a great horn filled the growing night. Everything went silent while the horn sounded for a second, then a third, then a fourth time; Thranduil felt his heart beat fast his eyes growing wide when he turned to the mountain. Oropher cursed in elvish grabbing his son’s arm.

“Come, time is definitely not on our side. I haven’t heard the Horn of Ravenhill since the last time Mordor tried to take over the world.”

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Thorin grumbled again, his head turning slightly to the path leading to the city of Dale, there was a heavy feeling on his heart whenever his mind turned to thoughts of Thranduil.

The Dwarven-Prince furrowed his eyes turning his attention to the small settlement at Erebor’s gates trying to focus his attention to the matters at hand. Thranduil would be fine, Thorin needed to focus on the mayhem Erebor had become in his absence. The dwarf female guided them to her home, the sun was about to set and the wind of the night was already touching the land. Dwalin glanced at his friend wondering when and how Thorin had become into such a sap for the elf, Dwalin shook his head knowing Thorin had always had a soft spot for elves even when the Prince denied him with passion and a dirty mouth. Romance, however, that was a surprised, Dwalin had seen Thorin walking away from such sentimentality many times. Nevertheless, if his Prince was happy, then Dwalin was happy as well.

“My Prince!” Thorin furrowed his brows when he saw the Captain of the Royal guard in front of him, the dwarf knelt with blood still pouring from a wound on his head. “Oh, my Prince I thought you were dead!”

The house was made to accommodate a small family, Thorin glanced to a little dwarfling who was hiding behind his mother watching the newcomers with big eyes. Everyone went silent as Captain Gruhof sat down with his eyes on his Prince, Thorin sat in front of him leaning back while making a gesture with his hand.

“What happened to you, Captain Gruhof? What happened to my father? What’s going on?” Thorin leaned forward when the she-dwarf shook her head and Gruhof lowered his eyes.

“My Prince, two days ago your father declared you a traitor. He said you were planning to organize a group of warriors from Khand to take over the throne.” The Captain spoke slowly but with honesty, Thorin sensed the tension coming from his friends as the Captain spoke.

“He had Prince Legolas by his side, but also Lord Drugin wearing the ring meant for the Royal Advisor.”

“What do you mean? My father, where is my father?” Dwalin stepped forward only to be stopped by Thorin who had no show emotion so far.

The Captain winced shaking his head, “I’m afraid I do not know. But, the Greenstone Clan, my Prince…”

Captain Gruhof trailed off before speaking with a firm tone, “I knew you were not dead and after your father decided to lock himself on the vault I tried to reach for him until his new guard composed mostly of members or sympathizers of Greenstone made me step back.”

Gruhof turned to his wife and his child before continuing, “After he declared you a traitor many started to oppose this edict, your father was mad and he…many were afraid to oppose him. He decided to close the gates until he had everything under control, but your father was no longer giving the orders.”

Thorin didn’t know what to say or what to do, the fact his father had named him a traitor had stung him deeply. But hearing this news about Erebor being in a limbo of uncertainty was worrying. The encounter with the orcs scouts had been a clear warning of what was to come, the Dwarven-Prince dedicated his thoughts to this dark panorama while the image of Thranduil brought calmness in him.

“Is there a way for me to get inside Erebor?” Thorin finally asked, the Captain opened his eyes first looking at his Prince then at his friends.

“My Liege, it is dangerous, two of Greenstone’s minions had been guarding the gates denying this small settlement food and other necessities.” The Captain turned to his wife then back to Thorin.

“I understand this, Captain Gruhof, however, a danger far greater than Greenstone is approaching. My main priority is to make sure Erebor and his people are fine.” Thorin replied standing up. “I cannot rest here, I cannot wait to see what happens.”

Gruhof stood up his face showing his uncertainty, “Then, my Prince let me come and help you. Some of the guards are still loyal to the House of Durín.”

Thorin shook his head nodding at the family of the guard, “No, you will take care of them and the Dwarrows in this settlement. Danger is really approaching, I want you to organize them and get ready to take refuge in the mountain.”

The Captain furrowed his brows, another kind of fear gripping at his heart, “My Liege, what kind of danger?”

“Orcs, Captain Gruhof, and another darkness I’m still unsure of.”

Captain Gruhof sighed, “Then, my Liege, night will be your best chance to go inside the mountain.”

Thorin glanced out a small window to see night was already reaching them, he turned to Dwalin and Bofur and Oín before turning back to Gruhof.

“Then, at night we will part.” Thorin finally said.

“My Prince, would you like a small snack before you have to go?” The she-dwarf asked shyly, Thorin smiled politely at her nodding.

“That would be most gracious of you, my lady. Thank you.”

*****

“Your father is fine.” Thorin gripped Dwalin’s shoulder making the other dwarf look at him.

“I know.” But even as Dwalin said this he was not so sure anymore, Thorin gave his friend a half-smile before turning to the darkened form of Erebor.

“Father loves your father, you know this. Even in his darkest hour I do not believe he would be capable of harming him.” Thorin continued, he tensed glancing at Bofur and Oín. “The Greenstone Clan, however, has been trying to take attributions that don’t belong to them.”

“Dangerous fellas, I’ve always said it.” Bofur shook his head rubbing the metal side of his hammer. “I never liked the youngest son, Naluk, bastard was always read to stab you on the back.”

Thorin smiled shaking his head, “I remembered. Of course this has nothing to do with the young dwarf the both of you were courting.”

“Of course.” Bofur replied winking.

Thorin felt warm spreading through his body, his friends bringing to him a comfort he needed at the moment. He faced Erebor wondering what other things must be happening inside his gates.

“Let’s go, the hour is growing late and I believe we need to get this under control before anything happens.”

“My Lord, may I ask how are we going to do this?” Oín asked when he saw Thorin stepping forward, the Prince turned around furrowing his brows as if the answer was obvious.

“We’re going over there and knock on the gates.” Thorin said. “I have no time for subtleties.”

Dwalin snorted patting Oín on the back while Bofur chuckled, Oín sighed knowing they had never been subtle. Still, approaching the mountain with a traitor edict above one’s head couldn’t be so wise. The group approached the mountain with Thorin ahead of them, the growing darkness of the night was covering the land while the Dwarven-Prince longed for the company of his elf; the thought of Thranduil brought a subtle smile to the Prince’s face something that was easily erased when he got to the closed gates.

Dwalin placed a hand on his friend before Thorin could announce himself, Thorin turned to Dwalin but his friend merely shook his head while Bofur stepped forward calling out in Dwarvish. There was a moment of silence until two figures appeared from the small openings for the guards in the gate, above them Dwalin and Thorin could hear the archers getting ready for an attack.

“Who is there calling at this late hour?” One of the guards asked eyeing Bofur with mistrust.

“Is this a way to talk to your Prince, lad? Open this gates to welcome Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór! Kings Under the Mountain!” Bofur exclaimed in a thunderous voice, the dwarf could heard some muffled sounds coming from behind the gate.

“Erebor has no Prince! The Prince is traitor!” The dwarf attending the gate exclaimed.

“I recognized that voice.” Thorin stepped forward with Dwalin and Oín placing themselves around him. “You are the same coward we met a long time ago, are you not Naluk Greenstone? Open this gates to your Prince and your punishment won’t be so severe.”

“You’re not Prince of mine!” Naluk exclaimed. “Attack them! Kill…”

Dwalin, Bofur and Oín got ready to react when Naluk suddenly trialed off, strange sounds could be heard while Thorin lifted his eyes to the gate. No more guards could be seen anymore, the young Prince placed his hands on his axe and sword the sound of the gate opening alerting all of them. Thorin furrowed his brows when he saw a young guard watching them with big, open eyes, not sooner had this guard stare at Thorin he had knelt presenting his sword to Thorin.

“Prince Thorin.” The dwarf mumbled lowering his head, Bofur approached him with mistrust before crossing the threshold he stopped glancing at the young guard and then at the others.

“Kneel.” Bofur ordered and the guards glanced at one another before bowing their heads and kneeling.

Thorin pursed his lips stepping forward to the young dwarf, “Rise, your name and position.”

“I’m Thotak, my Prince. Keeper of the gate, I’m an apprentice of great Master Nister.”

“The Captain of the gates.” Thorin mumbled. “Where is he? What was Naluk Greenstone doing at the gates?”

Thotak stared at his Prince with his cheeks burning, a glance of anger and sorrow crossed his face, “Master Nister was murdered my Lord when he refused to kneel in front of the newly appointed Captain Naluk.”

Thorin clenched his jaw nodding at the gate, “Is there anyone else there that can put my live in danger?”

Thotak shook his head, “Everyone in here is a loyal dwarf to the House of Durín.”

“Good, then let’s go inside, Master Thotak.”

The chamber of the guards was a small space with a couple of chairs, some bunkers and a few tables filled with drinks and food. Thorin glanced at the two armed guards tied up wearing bruises on their foreheads, Dwalin went to them kneeling down while Thorin faced the rest of the guards who were bowing their heads to him.

“Master Thotak, tell me how are things in Erebor.”

Thotak shifted nervously looking around the room, many of his companions had anxious expression on their faces but Thorin decided to turn his attention to the young guard who was eager to answer. His words were not much different than those of Captain Gruhof about his father’s announcement, and the fact the Greenstone Clan seemed to be at the head of many of the decisions. It was at this point Thorin and Dwalin went completely stiffed, Bofur scratched his beard while looking around the room.

“My Prince, the King had been strange but many had attributed this to the sudden inclusion of Lord Drugin. Many of the members of the Greenstone Clan had been put in some positions of power to put Erebor under control.” Thotak smiled weakly. “I knew you were alive, my Prince. And I also knew you were no traitor, you have been missed but now with you here it could be possible to rescue King Thráin and return Erebor to the normality.”

Thorin stared at Thotak for a long time, the young dwarf dropped his smile but the Prince nodded to him trying to offer comfort.

“Strange things had been happening in my absence.” Thorin glanced around. “I’m afraid I cannot do anything unless I know how to approach my father and the rest of the Dwarrows under the Mountain.”

“Everyone is loyal to the House of Durín, Prince Thorin. Everyone is ready to live and die for you.” Another guard said. “But, we’re also afraid, the Greenstone Clan and King Thráin’s words have left us with fear.”

“They had threatened our families and we already saw what happened to those who opposed this changes.” Thotak mumbled. “They killed my Master and they had incarcerate Lord Fundin and Captain Glorfindel of the Elven Guard.”

“What about Prince Legolas?” Thorin asked immediately. “Where is he?”

“In the tower, unable to leave.”

Thorin furrowed his brows crossing his arms, everyone seemed to have their attention on their Prince, and many would look over to the unconscious members of the Greenstone clan waiting for Thorin to do or say anything. Finally, the young Prince faced the dwarves with his face serious and determine.

“I never imagine after having brought peace to Khand I will find my home in such a mayhem.” Thorin spoke slowly looking at every single guard. “These news are alarming and I cannot stand still. I’ll make my way to seek out my friends and then my father.”

The guards glanced at one another, Oín and Dwalin nodded standing behind Thorin while Bofur poked the unconscious dwarves.

“However, something else is coming.” These words caught the guards by surprised, Thorin advanced placing his hand on young Thotak. “I need you to be ready, because news of an imminent attack from an army of orcs have reached me and I need to know Erebor is ready for any kind of attack.”

“Orcs, my Liege? But, how?” Thotak asked looking very alarmed.

“I was attacked before coming here.” Thorin commented straightened up, lifting his chin while his voice denoted authority. “You said you are loyal to the House of Durín, can I count of you?”

All of Thorin’s doubts came back, as he stared with a confidence he was feeling completely Thorin knew there was risk many of them would say no. Thorin knew the trust of his people might be wavering under the sudden changes and strange behavior coming from their King, the heart of the Prince was hammering against his chest while he thought of what others had fallen under this strange situation. Dwalin tensed counting the number of guards, checking on his weapons while shooting a warning glance a Bofur who was happy kicking and pocking on the unconscious members of the Greenwood Clan.  Finally, it was young Thotak the one to kneel again presenting his weapon to the Prince he was soon followed by the rest of the guards who swore the same oat they did when they took arms for Erebor and their King.

Thorin tried to keep his face expressionless, he placed his hand on the young guard’s shoulder again shooting him a small smile.

“Thank you.”

“What do you required of us, Prince Thorin?”

The Dwarven-Prince thought it over for a few seconds before giving out the order, he made sure the unconscious members of the Greenwood Clan were tight and gag while they would take the youngest son of Lord Drugin with them while they tried to make their way to Bilbo’s home. The rest of the guards should stay there and be alert to any alarm or to help Thorin if he were to need them. The gates should be opened by dawn with or without the consent of the King, the guards had agreed readily with hope and trust returning to their faces when they watched their Prince entered Erebor with his friends and Naluk behind them.

Dwalin, Oín and Bofur scowled deeply walking around the silence that was Erebor, no one seemed to be on the streets and the lights coming from the torches and the oil canals were the only sign of live they crossed on their way to the commercial district of Erebor. Naluk was trying to struggle against his ties and the gag, but Dwalin roughed him up to make sure he behaved. Thorin walked with decision, his footsteps leading him with more determination inside the mountain ready to react to any inconvenient. Finally, after what seemed to be an impossible and eerie silence, they got to the stairs leading to the Market and the Commercial district, the lights in here were more vibrant and the sound of muffled conversations could be heard. Thorin stepped against the railing of the stairs, his eyes taking in the several guards marching around and the prudent figures of the Dwarrows, Thorin grumbled putting on him the hood he was provided while Dwalin and Bofur covered Naluk.

Night had already fallen, Bilbo was already organizing everything while he heard Gloin and Bombur speaking softly with Balin nursing a pint of ale. They were all rather tense, the atmosphere around them had been one of gloomy negativity ever since they received the strange news from Dwalin and the happenings with the King, Lord Fundin and Legolas. Their planning had been slow but it was in the working, all they had to do was to wait for a miracle.

The bell from the door sounded, Bilbo furrowed his brows turning to the main entrance of his store to send away whoever had come in but he stopped dead on his tracks when he realized who it was.  Thorin gave the hobbit a half-smirk looking around with judging stare.

“Master Baggins, I don’t remember this establishment being so sorrowful, whatever happen to the merriment of the hobbits?”

Everyone stopped what they were doing, the rest stood up making their way to the patisserie.

“You idiot!” Bilbo went immediately to Thorin embracing his friend with relief, Dwalin smiled closing the door and the curtains behind them.

Bofur dropped Naluk on the floor hugging Bombur while greeting the others. The noise was starting to grow until Bilbo turned around shushing everyone.

“To the back, now, all of you.” Bilbo ushered them to the back were they had their meeting place.

Everyone was speaking at once, asking questions while dedicating a brief and relief hug to Thorin. Balin went to Dwalin shaking his head sadly but assuring his brother their father was doing fine. Bilbo shoot Naluk a disgusted stare leaning in while narrowing his eyes at him, the dwarf struggled shooting a furious glance to the room.

“We thought you dead, Thorin! We thought the worse when your father declared you a traitor!” Dori exclaimed shaking his head. “What happened? Where is Prince Thranduil?”

“You have a lot of explaining to do.” Nori replied. “You have us worried.”

Thorin lifted his hands looking around, for the very first time ever since his trip to Khand went on unexpected turns Thorin felt at home. He was relief to see his friends had been untouched for he knew his father and Greenstone knew about his connection with these people. Bilbo narrowed his eyes taking in the strange bearing Thorin had upon him, Thorin turned to him offering a tiny smile before his face took upon the same determination Bilbo had come to associate with his friend’s leadership.

“This is a long story, but know this, I am back and I’m going to finish this once and for all.” Thorin replied taking off the hood and fixing his clothing and his weapons.

“Thorin, your father…he is not right in the head.” Balin replied. “This sickness he has, he is different more consumed by greed than before. He hasn’t left your family vault, there is this stone he has now with him at all times and, on top of that, Lord Drugin and some Greenstone guards seemed to be by his side at all times.”

“But, is everyone ready to stop this madness? Is there anyone out there that may want to hear me?” Thorin asked looking around the room.

“There is, Thorin.” Bilbo finally said. “But, some of them are afraid, Greenstone has some sympathizers, those who saw your engagement with Prince Thranduil as something unnatural.”

“How many?” Thorin asked sharply.

“I don’t know.” Bilbo admitted, he looked around and saw many of them were uncomfortable, Bilbo however had been around long enough to know this could turn out to be beneficial for Thorin. “But I do know if they know you’re here and ready to take over and stop this nonsense they will follow you. Many are blaming the Greenstone Clan, many believe your father has been poisoned by them.”

“This could work on our favor.” Dwalin commented.

“Brother…” Balin started but Bofur interrupted them.

“You don’t get it, on our way here we were attacked by a goblin scout. They were looking for Thorin.” Bofur said. “He threatened war, told us a bunch of orcs were ready to attack Erebor with the help of Dol-Guldur.”

“We do not have time. Thranduil has gone to Dale to ask for help.” Thorin continued. “I didn’t know Erebor was in this state but we cannot waste more time.”

Everyone in the room stared at one another, some of them hesitating some others shrugging. They had sworn their loyalty to Thorin, they had been making their way around to make sure Thorin didn’t lose any popularity and many Dwarrows and men living under the mountain were ready to back Thorin up. This is what they had been doing until two days prior Thráin had finally lost it. Now with Thorin before them and this news of war above their heads they would not turn around.

“What have you planned so far?” Balin inquired looking at his best friend.

Thorin turned to Bilbo, “You are the only one of us that can go around without being noticed, can you reach for Prince Legolas and make sure he is fine?”

“Of course I can.” Bilbo replied. “I can bring him here as well.”

“Good, keep him as far away from father as you can.” Thorin then turned to Dwalin. “You know where the cells are, go there and put your father and Captain Glorfindel out of there. Get everyone in there ready.”

“What if we encounter resistance?” Dwalin asked furrowing his brows.

“You won’t.” Thorin said with certainty. “As soon as I leave here everyone is going to know I’m back, and I will demand to see my father.”

“This could be dangerous.” Nori said standing up. “We better go with you.”

“Only take care of those who had real intentions of killing you. I don’t want Dwarven blood spill in Erebor if we can help it.” Thorin replied. “The night is long, we can take advantage of this.”

“Thorin.” Thorin turned to Balin, the old dwarf smiled at him placing his hand on the Prince’s arm. “It is good to see you well, and it is good to have you back.”

Thorin turned around watching as everyone nod in approval of this words, the Dwarven-Prince bowed his head in gratefulness.

“It is good to be back, I wish circumstances were different.” Thorin then took a more serious bearing. “We need to do this fast. I’ll go directly to the Royal Palace and try to reason with my father, this threat of war must be important to at least be heard.”

“What about this guy?” Oín replied nodding to Naluk, Thorin turned to the dwarf who was staring at him defiantly.

The Dwarven-Prince knelt down grabbing the dwarf by his clothes, “I won’t let you or your clan win. Know this, I will come back for you and you will stand before Erebor so your sins and those of your father and your clan will be reveal. For now, Master Bombur, Master Bifur, do you remember how to interrogate prisoners?”

Bifur nodded eagerly along with Bombur. Thorin smirked presenting Naluk to them.

“Then, by all mean, make sure he tells you everything he knows. I need you to stay here to wait for us and Master Baggins and Prince Legolas.” Thorin then turned to the rest of his friends. “Dwalin you and Bofur can go to the cells, make sure everyone who was imprisoned unfairly is freed.”

“We will, Prince Thorin.”

“Balin, I need you to call the Council Lords.” Thorin ordered to his friend. “Bring them forward to the Royal Palace, we need to straighten this whole mess up.”

“I will, My Prince.” Balin replied.

Thorin nodded then turning to the others, “You will come with me, we will march to the Royal Palace and I will face my father in the Vault chambers. Let’s go.”

*****

Legolas stared to the valley before him, night was getting to an end and Legolas feared this would be another day without news and subjected to the King’s strange and erratic behavior.

He was longing to get more information about his father and Prince Thorin, his patience was finally running thin after Captain Glorfindel had been taken away. But there wasn’t much he could do, not when King Thráin and the crazy Dwarrows he had for advisors were so ready to point swords and spears at everyone talking back to them. The young Prince lowered his gaze to see Beleg curled up in a ball resting peacefully, Legolas softened his features but his heart turned cold when his thoughts were take back to the whereabouts of his father and Prince Thorin. Here in this tower, Legolas had only be capable of seeing Orí who brought to him different pies and pastries from Bilbo and words of patience and reassurance.

Legolas was about to return to his sightseeing when Beleg stirred beside him, the young elf furrowed his brows glancing down Beleg stood up sniffing around his tail wiggling happily.

“Your dog may be a menace for my perfect hiding abilities, Prince Legolas.” Bilbo came forward from behind the gates of the balcony.

“Bilbo!” Legolas exclaimed surprised. “Is everything all right? What are you doing here?”

Bilbo waved his hands looking back while trying to make Legolas to speak softly, “Everything is fine, I’m here because I have news for you.”

Legolas face lit up, “About my father?”

Bilbo nodded approaching the Prince, it was then Legolas noticed a small sword resting on Bilbo’s left side.  Legolas furrowed his brows turning a puzzle stare to the hobbit who was now scratching the back of Beleg’s ear.

“Thorin is back.” Bilbo finally said. Legolas stepped forward eagerly but Bilbo shook his head. “Prince Thranduil, however, was sent to Dale.”

“Dale? Whatever for?” Legolas inquired bewildered.

“They have a strange encounter with goblin scouts, there seems to be a threat of war against Erebor. Prince Thranduil went to Dale seeking help.” Bilbo turned to Legolas smiling softly. “He is fine, though. I do not believe Thorin will be parted of him without making sure he was fine.”

Legolas hesitated for a moment, then he dropped his shoulders with longing on his features.

“Thank you.” Legolas finally said.

“Don’t thank me yet, Prince Legolas. I have come here to take you out of this place and make sure you are with me until I can keep you safe in my home.” Bilbo turned around entering the room of the young Prince. “Now, grab your sword and let’s go.”

Legolas didn’t need to be told twice, he grabbed Ithilmegil fastening the belt around his waist moving forward to grab his bow and his quiver.

“What about the guards?” Legolas asked only to chuckle when Bilbo put a sling out of his pocket. “Very well, Master Baggins, then lead the way.”

Bilbo smiled turning around to exit the room, Legolas looked around the hall to see his guards knocked out on the floor.  Bilbo led Legolas down the hall to a big tapestry, the hobbit moved it aside to reveal a secret door. The elf lifted his brows but followed Bilbo trusting the hobbit knew where he was going, behind them Beleg was running in silence as if he was sensing how important this mission was.

Just as Bilbo and Legolas were leaving the tower through the royal chambers, Dwalin and Bofur had already entered the cells. It didn’t take long for Dwalin and Bofur to subdue those dwarves ready to put up a fight as soon as they asked for their loyalty to the House of Durín and Prince Thorin. However, Dwalin and Bofur were happy to see many others stopped glancing at these newcomers with confusion until Dwalin declared Prince Thorin had arrived and was making his way to safe his father and clear up this misunderstanding. Bofur realized then fear and lack of leadership had kept these warriors at a standstill before those who were ready to obtain easy power.

Captain Glorfindel quirked a single eyebrow at Dwalin, his face was marked with worry and uneasiness.

“What took you so long, Master Dwalin?” Glorfindel finally asked when the door cell was opened.

“Hn, a lot of inconveniences.” Dwalin replied eyeing the elf.

“Is Prince Thranduil well? How about Prince Thorin?” Glorfindel asked immediately.

“They are fine. Thorin is taking over the control of this craziness and Prince Thranduil is asking for help.” Dwalin replied under the confused glance of Glorfindel Dwalin elaborated his answer. “Rumors of war reached our ears on our way here. He has gone to Dale to ask for help.”

“War? By whom?”

Dwalin hesitated for a moment before speaking, “Prince Thranduil said this armies might be following an old enemy, the Witch-King of Angmar.”

Glorfindel paled considerably and Dwalin was once again faced with ignorance and dread, to see an elf get this expression was not reassuring but something to be wary of.

“What can I do to help?” Glorfindel finally said.

“For now, just wait.” Dwalin replied. “And perhaps help us get the innocent out of these cells.”

“Your father is down that hall.” Glorfindel replied when Dwalin was about to leave, the dwarf stopped nodding.

“Thank you.”

Fundin lifted his eyes with his heart warming up in relief at the sight of his second born, he smiled tiredly and wrapped his arms around Dwalin who put him forward to the light of the hall.

“I believe you have come here with good news?” Fundin asked.

“Thorin is here. He has gone to talk to the King.” Dwalin saw the fear crossing his father’s eyes, Fundin straightened up shaking his head.

“We need to get to Prince Thorin.” Fundin was sounding alarmed, he turned to his son shaking his head. “This sickness…Dwalin, the King is ready to kill Thorin if he ever crosses the gates of Erebor. He has been consumed by his own ambition and his greed, he is no longer our King. We must get to Prince Thorin before something happens to him.”

*****

The Kingdom of Erebor seemed to wake up in the midst of confusion and hope.

Some of the guards of turn would kneel in front of their Prince, while others would try to raise in arms. Thorin kept walking hurriedly to the Royal Palace with only those he trusted completely by his side, at the gates no one seemed to offer resistance. However, before the hall leading to the Throne room and the vaults he found in front of the oldest son of Lord Drugin, with a long light beard and heavy armor, Lord Novar made a face spitting right before Thorin’s feet.

“You would have done well to keep in hiding, Prince Thorin.” The Lord spoke placing his hand on the axe hanging on his left side. “You know what it is the sentence for the traitors against the Crown.”

“I do, that’s why I am so surprised you’re not pissing yourself, Lord Novar, if I remembered correctly that was one of your best abilities back in the Academy.” Thorin replied with a smirk.

Lord Novar growled stepping forward, “You dare…”

“I do.” Thorin replied stepping forward, the young Prince had seen the group of Greenstone guards behind their Lord and he could sense his friends getting ready for a fight. It was obvious to them many eyes had been placed upon them, Thorin needed to do this in the right way or he would end up giving the traitors arguments to sustain their claims against Thorin.

“Lord Novar, on my arrival I heard some disturbing news about my unfair treatment while away trying to keep peace amongst my people.”

“There was no unfairness, we heard from a good source…” Started Novar who stuttered when Thorin lifted a hand to silence him, the Lord went red in the face snarling but unable to speak for Thorin spoke with his deep, thunderous voice resounding all around the garden and the halls of the Royal Palace.

“A good source wearing the mark of the Greenstone Clan who left his friends after trying to get me kill on a trip to make sure my cousin was doing fine.” Thorin stepped forward centering his attention on Lord Novar. “Do you have anything to say to this, Lord Novar? For I have two of your subjects in prison for their crimes against the Crown and Erebor.”

Lord Novar clenched his jaw, his eyes gleaming dangerously the tension built around them could be broke with a single sound or movement from either of the warriors. But no one dare to break this invisible wall, many understood the words of their Prince seemed tainted with the truth for many of them had been subjected to the strange words and sudden raised on power from the Greenstone Clan.

“Now, Lord Novar, step aside and let me see my father.” Thorin demanded with the same tone.

Lord Novar tightened his hold on the hilt of his axe, he looked around weighting his options. However, just before anyone could make a wise or unwise decision a sound that hadn’t been heard in years in the mountain was heard and everyone stopped what they were doing with fear and puzzlement in their minds.

Thorin opened his eyes turning around to face the direction in which he knew Ravenhill was positioned outside the Mountain. The Horn of Ravenhill sounded once, twice, thrice; and just as Thorin turned on time to stop evaded the falling blade of an axe aimed to his head the horn sounded one last time leaving Erebor in a deadly silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, war is here!!  
> A lot is going to happen in the next two chapters before Thorin and Thranduil can be together again, then it's going to be pure fluff and sexy and loving times between them.
> 
> Thank you guys for your patience, I know it's been long but I promise the end is almost near. Of course, not before they have a lil! Dwelf running around.


	19. The Drums of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> War has arrived and Thorin has to face many enemies before peace can be reached in his Realm and his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there guys! 
> 
> I hope you're doing well, this is the new chapter thank you for your patience and for your kind words, your comments, your kudos and for reading the story. For now, I hope you enjoy this chapter, I apologize for any grammar, spelling or other funny mistakes you may find.
> 
>  
> 
> Gurth gothrim Tel'Quessir: Death to the foe(s) of the Elves, according to grey-company.org

 

**Chapter 19**

**The Drums of War**

The mountain was left in an eerie silence, the atmosphere around Erebor turned into a dense mass of fear and anxiousness while the eyes of the Prince of Erebor found those of the eldest son of the Lord of the Greenstone Clan.  The tension was quite obvious around them; Thorin’s friends had their hands on their weapons just like those accompanying the Lord had their hands on theirs. However, no one moved; Thorin narrowed his eyes while Lord Novar growled pressing harder against the firm sword Thorin was wielding.

The sound of armors moving towards them, whispers of servants and other inhabitants of the Royal Palace making their way to the main gates grew around them. Many arrived to the main gardens, and some of them focused their attention on the Lords standing against one another with their swords gleaming dangerously. The guards of the Royal Palace didn’t hesitate to put their spears in an attack position pointing their weapons to Lord Novar and his sympathizers; the tension only grew as the companions put their weapons out noticing they were surrounded by those who had not seen with kind eyes how the Greenstone Clan had tried to take over the chain of command in Erebor.

“Let go and your punishment won’t be so severe, Lord Novar.” Thorin spoke deeply, his voice could be heard all around the garden.

Lord Novar snarled stepping forward, “Give up now, traitor of Erebor.”

“I am not the one lifting their sword against a member of the Royal House, step down and hear me out for there is no time to lose.” Thorin tried to reason with the dwarf but he knew his words would be unheard. “A great danger approaches Erebor, if you really care about the Mountain step down and help me in the fight.”

Lord Novar smirked spitting Thorin in the face, his words were pronounced with anger and disgust, curses in Khûzdul that made the other dwarves, noble or not, hissed and exclaimed indignantly. Thorin didn’t need to know anything else, the answer he was seeking was given by this gesture; with a semi-turn of his foot Thorin pressed forward sliding the blade of his sword down the blade of his enemy’s sword. Lord Novar stepped back but he wasn’t fast enough to prevent Thorin for hurting him, the Dwarven-Prince cut his hand making the young Lord exclaimed in surprise and pain.

It was at this moment the members of the Council arrived, in the midst of surprise and anxiousness as well as ignorance of what was happening. Their eyes went from the Dwarven-Prince of Erebor to the Lord of the Greenstone Clan who, two days prior, had decided to stroll around with his head lifted to the sky and barking orders as if he own the mountain.

“What is the meaning of this? Prince Thorin? Lord Novar?” Lord Faern one of the eldest members of the council approached them part of the guards and the generals from the Dwarven army arrived with them.

Thorin parried another slash meant to cut his arm, while Lord Novar kept his insults and his words directed only to Thorin. The fight would have continued for quite some time, but at that moment Bilbo and Legolas appeared from the main gates, they were met with the fight and everyone in a state of shock. Bilbo looked up to Legolas who had his bow on his hand and was putting an arrow out of his quiver. The hobbit didn’t wait to see what Legolas was about to do, his movements were faster and more ill intended, the sling he had used to take Legolas out of the tower was already loaded with another smooth stone he kept on a pouch on his side. The stone found its target moments later, Lord Novar blinked lifted his hand to his forehead and then fell down unconscious on the ground.

Everyone gasped turning to the source of such an attack finding Bilbo frowning at everyone with his hand still holding the sling; Thorin snorted shaking his head while smiling a little.

“Your aim, Master Baggins, is a stuff of legend. Remind me to never upset you.” Thorin then turned to the other members of the Greenstone Clan, many of whom had lifted their arms in surrender while others seemed ready to fight.

Thorin stood up putting his sword away, “I do not have the time not the patience to deal with traitors at the moment. Guards, take these traitors to the third level cells, no communication, and no light until we have sorted everything up. Understood?”

Lord Faern and the other members of the Council watched as the order was obeyed almost immediately, Thorin then turned to them his eyes were aflame with anger and worry. No one move or say anything, everyone was waiting for the Prince to speak or do something else. Lord Faern looked around him before stepping forward, he bowed until his beard touched the ground and then the others followed swiftly. Thorin felt a strange oppression on his chest, never before unless it was in official meetings had he been subject to this, but now he could see even the servants and his friends following the gesture of Lord Faern.

“My Liege, a lot has been said in the last couple of days. Now, you come back to us in the mist of confusion and strange happenings.” Lord Faern stared at Thorin awaiting for a response.

“I’ve heard the rumors, absurd in my opinion.” Thorin replied and his voice left no doubt he thought those rumors had been idiotic in nature. “To think that I will take by force what it is mine by right, it is unbelievable and an obvious plot to something bigger.”

Lord Faern nodded looking out of the corner of his eyes at Lord Agamm and the other Lords, many of whom were looking uncomfortable by this. Thorin stepped forward with his eyes falling down on every single dwarf present in the garden, his friends watched from afar with pride and loyalty coming on their faces watching the Prince they had been following ever since many of them were children. Bilbo smiled softly watching as Thorin explained to every one of the dangers his mission to Khand had brought, of course he had omitted many details leaving only the important bits so everyone started to understand the danger they were in. The news about orcs and wargs attacking their Prince so near Erebor and of these same vile creatures trying to kill Lord Dáin and the gold mines was enough to make everyone even worrier than before.

The Prince’s words were received with a hint of disbelief and fear, it was obvious this new revelation was not something to be taken lightly. Thorin stepped forward made his way to the council standing his full height.

“Now, with this dark cloud above us I need to ask the Council and my father to mobilize our warriors to the Gate. The fact that the Horns of Ravenhill were blown should be an indicator of what can be happing outside.”

Lord Faern was the first one to react, his gestures were those of someone unsecure with something he wanted to say but knew it wasn’t the place or the time. However he came in front of his Prince aware of the state their King was in and the fact the only one capable of taking care of Erebor was in front of him.

“Your Highness, the King has long retired to the vault.” Lord Faern spoke to his Prince but not to anyone else, he leaned forward and his face was marked with worry. “If what you say it’s the truth then…”

Whatever the Lord was about to say was cut short by a couple of approaching guards, the both of them came in running their armors sounding with deep metallic tilting, their faces covered in sweat and their beards and hair completely untidy. The fear and the traces of disbelief were evident on their faces, they moved swiftly until both of them had knelt in front of Thorin.

“My Prince! Orcs! Orcs and hundredths of them! Ravenhill is on fire!”

“The inhabitants of the outer land are asking for entrance my Lord, orcs are coming down the Hill.”

Thorin turned to the Council, the buzzing noise of excitement inside the mountain could be heard. The inhabitants of Erebor had awoken at the sound of the Horns and it was obvious this event brought to them fear and anxiety. The two guards kept their faces down while Thorin faced the council, Thorin’s friends were looking around, Bilbo and Balin crossed stares with some worry and apprehension.

“My lords, as you can see, we cannot wait.” Thorin replied turning around ready to go directly to the vaults.

“My Prince Thorin is right, we cannot wait.” Fundin came right at them, his features showed just how tired he felt and still he held himself with the same impressive bearing he had in younger days.

Thorin tilted his head, his eyes fell upon the form of the old Lord and then on his friend. Dwalin was showing the concern he felt for his father, but he was silent in his worry. Glorfindel came right with them, his eyes sought out Prince Legolas and they felt relief when he realized Legolas was there as well. Fundin came in greeting everyone before bowing to Thorin.

“My Prince, you heard the Horns of Ravenhill. We have not time. Erebor needs the House of Durín to take up arms and defend us.” Fundin stared directly into Thorin’s eyes as he spoke, he had seen the young Prince grow before his eyes from when he was but a boy running around with his children and making mischief to the moment King Thrór saw something in Thorin, something that made him named Thorin the Crowned Prince of Erebor even before he designated Thráin as his next-in-line.

Thorin nodded but his eyes pointed in the direction of the Royal Palace, “I understand, Lord Fundin, that’s why I’m going to my father…”

“No, my Prince, I’ll go for King Thráin. You, my Lord, need to take your place as the Lord of House of Durín and march in front of our warriors to make sure anyone endangering the Mountain understands why it is a foolish idea to do so.” Fundin placed a hand on Thorin’s forearm, they stared at each other until Thorin realized it would be futile to argue.

“Are you ordering me, Lord Fundin?” Thorin replied with a hint of humor in his voice, Fundin chuckled shaking his head.

“I wouldn’t dare so, my Lord. I am doing what I’ve been doing all my life, advising the future King of Erebor.”

Thorin felt his blood ran cold at this words, he lifted his eyes and saw many were waiting to see what would happen now. The Dwarven-Prince knew he could not delay this and, even if he wanted to face his father the imminent attack on Erebor was more important at the moment.

“Lord Fundin, I let you go to my father and make him see reason.” Thorin finally proclaimed. “Gloin and Balin will be going with you. This is not up for discussion, by the way.”

Thorin anticipated the Lord’s argument, Lord Fundin nodded briefly bowing again. Thorin then turned to the others, taking a deep breath he took up with authority and easiness the command he was given by his grandfather a long time ago.

“My Lords, the council as well as the inhabitants of Erebor should seek refuge, I advise you to follow the command of Lord Faern and Lord Agamm who are going to be in charge of the evacuation.” Thorin waited until both Lords had bowed their heads in agreement, he then turned to Dwalin and his company.

“We will heading to the gates, Dwalin get every warrior in Erebor ready for a full out attack. Make sure the war-goats are ready to mount.” Thorin glanced at the Royal Palace one last time before turning to Fundin. “Be careful.”

“I will, my Prince.”

“Prince Legolas.” Thorin finally addressed the young Prince who stared at him with an anxious expression. “Your brother ask me to not take my eyes off of you and I intend to do just that, you will come with me.”

“How is he?” Legolas questioned making his way towards Thorin, the Dwarven –Prince smiled slightly though concern was evident in his eyes.

“He was fine when I saw him riding towards Dale.” Thorin glanced at Legolas while his friends and Bilbo walked beside him ready to join everyone at the gates.

Thorin watched the young Elven-Prince out of the corner of his eyes, for a moment the chaos being lived in the city under the mountain was forgotten, and the threat of war was simply replaced by the memory of Thranduil. There was no doubt of Legolas being Thranduil’s son, he had the same shade of gold on his hair and the same deep, electric blue in  his eyes. Thorin felt comfort and a protective nature coming to him at the thought of protecting Legolas; of making sure Thranduil would come back to them to see his son again and, perhaps, after all this mess was over Thorin could gift him with the chance to make public Legolas true parentage.

The earth trembled at that moment, everyone seemed to scream and run but then another sound of grumbling echoed inside the mountain and another quaked was felt. The sound of an explosion resounded inside the mountain and the impact of something heavy hitting the mountain made Erebor trembled, the bells rang in the mountain and the people stopped what they were doing to hear the melodic warning reaching even to the people hidden deep inside the mountain. Many were scare for they haven’t heard such announcement since the Great Winter and it had been something only the eldest of the eldest remembered. Now, at the gates of war, many of the young and middle-age inhabitants turned to their Prince asking for directions and entrusting their lives and futures to Thorin and the warriors of the Lonely Mountain. The inhabitants of Erebor followed their Prince orders, they moved faster taking with them their families and neighbors moving deep inside the mountain while Thorin and the warriors walk towards the gates.  Thorin had to bark out orders and commands for people to go to the refugee. Once they had crossed the main districts of Erebor Thorin was faced with many of the warriors getting ready, all of them talking amongst themselves until they would notice him, then they would bow and would not stand until Thorin gave the order.

“My Prince!” Young Thotak, the guard, came running towards him his face was a mask of fear and sweat the armor he was wearing tingled as he approached Thorin. “My Prince! Ravenhill is on Fire and those foul creatures! They have come in great numbers! Thousands and thousands of orcs and wargs and trolls!”

“The people from outside! What happened to the ones living at the outskirts of Erebor?” Thorin demanded.

“We…we could save some, my Prince.” Thotak hesitated his voice filled with sadness.

Thorin swallowed nodding curtly, he turned around to see every warrior had their eyes on him. The Dwarven-Prince turned to his friends but just like everyone else they were waiting for Thorin to take command. Legolas took his bow off of his back, his resolution was cold and there was no expression showing on his face, Thorin saw as Captain Glorfindel approached him wearing the same façade and the dwarf had to wonder if this was an elf thing.

“Guard Thotak take me to the bridge of the gates, Nori call the generals and make them meet me up there.” Thorin then turned around, his voice raised until it was heard by all. “Children of Erebor! Be ready to defend your home!”

There was a scream of agreement with the warriors showing the hilts of their weapons to the Prince, Thorin followed Thotak while the young dwarf explained to Thorin they were helping the people from outside entered the mountain with Captain Gruhof helping out. It was then when a couple of members of the Greenstone clan had come to try and make a change of guard and found this, there was a fight in which both members had died and just when Thotak and Captain Gruhof thought they could go back to help the other dwarves enter the mountain the Horns resounded all along the Valley.

“We heard them first, my Prince. Then we saw it. Fire, we heard the screams and then more fire.” Thotak’s voice was trembling. “We couldn’t save them all, first many of the attackers came running down the path to Ravenhill then the earth…it started trembling and these creatures came from under the mountain and the hills, they are now in the Valley with trolls shooting stones at the gates.”

“Who ordered the closing of the gate?”

“I did, Prince Thorin.” Captain Gruhof came at him at the entrance of the bridge, the old Captain stepped aside and Thorin was faced with fire and destruction.

Thorin Oakenshield was trembling in rage when his eyes fell upon the dead forms of families, she-dwarves, children and male dwarves that had tried to take refuge in the mountain. He lifted his stare to see the army assembled at the doorstep of Erebor, all of them wearing makeshift armors with scimitars or spears, some even had bows and arrows and some black arrows had been thrown to the gate failing in their goal. The banners many of them were carrying were of black and red, a mark looking like and eye with five columns coming down as if it was blood instead of towers holding up the eye. Thorin watched with horror as these orcs started laughing and making horrid sounds, with a tilt of his head Thorin finally centered his attention to Ravenhill only to see blood, ashes and fire up there. Many orcs could be seen as well but, what really caught Thorin’s eye was the banner fluttering teasingly at them, the black banner of his enemies.

It was then Thorin heard a voice he hadn’t heard in a long, long time.

It came to him like a bad memory and the Dwarven-Prince had to hold himself up or else he would have fallen in disbelief. The voice was deep and mocking, as soon as it spoke every single orc started cackling and they started marching on their spot, without moving creating an overwhelming sound of drums rolling announcing the oncoming doom.

“That voice…” Thorin started trying to look to Ravenhill but his eyes could not see beyond the big structure these creatures had erected to place their banner as a mocking symbol.

“It came for the pale orc, the one standing beside those horns.” Legolas announced beside Thorin, Glorfindel lifted his eyes and just like his pupil he saw Azog the defiler, his elven eyes allowing the perfect vision of the evil creature smirking while lifting his arms.

“Pale orc?” Thotak questioned trying to look to the place Thorin, Legolas and Glorfindel were looking. “I cannot see it.”

“Elven eyes are unique, lad.” Captain Gruhof said with his frown deepening.

Thorin had been silent while his mind brought to him the memories of the battle in which he had lost his grandfather. He remembered the great figure of the pale orc he had faced when he had been but a young Prince, the battle of Azanulbizar had been a brutal and bloodied fight that had been won only after Thorin had wounded Azog. At that time, everyone thought the defiler had been dead, apparently they had been wrong.

“It cannot be.” Thorin said again. “Tell me, Legolas, how does he look?”

Legolas turned to Thorin slightly confused but it was Glorfindel the one answering, his voice was cold and unwavering while his body was getting ready for the battle to come.

“It is the same, Prince Thorin, you fought after the fall of your grandfather.” Glorfindel turned to Thorin gravelly. “How he survived his wounds, I cannot tell but his left hand is missing.”

Thorin returned his stare to Ravenhill, anger and hatred building up inside him knowing the beats he had fought so long ago was up there, laughing at what he had done. He had proclaimed victory bringing with him dead and destruction to Thorin’s doorstep. The Dwarven-Prince clenched his fists, his eyes caught a strange movement coming from the army of orcs and he saw another great figure appeared. Two standard bearers stood behind him, one of them carrying the black flag of Dol-Guldur another one the same banner Thorin had seen at the gates of Moria. The symbol of the defiler: a crush skull by a great mace, all mark with white and red.

The great figure smirked lifting his arm, “To the King Under the Mountain, a gift from the great Azog and the Lord of Dol-Guldur.”

As this creature spoke the trolls positioned behind them activated some trebuchets they had on their backs, soon the dwarves on the bridge of the gate exclaimed in horror observing the beheaded heads of their comrades being thrown at them. Thorin growled glaring at the great orc laughing evilly while the rest mocked and kept their marching pace.

“If the King and the Princeling come forward kneeling and asking for mercy the great Azog and the Lord Necromancer of Dol-Guldur will be merciful.” The orc proclaimed. “Think it well, Thorin Oakenshield, or you will see the Mountain burn to the ground and your kin impaled in the spears of our army.”

“That fucking bastard…” Thorin exclaimed enraged.

Legolas was trembling in anger and disbelief at what he just saw, he was no stranger to cruelty but this was too much. Glorfindel furrowed his brows watching at the orc he had identified as Bolg, the spawn of Azog; he placed his hand on his sword for he knew what would be the answer coming from Thorin. The Dwarven-Prince was about to screamed when everyone noticed how one of the standard bearers came forward with the black banner hanging above his head from a spear he was holding, he laughed while he pierce the corpse of a dead child the spear going through the chest of the little dwarven child. The orcs laughed, the ones watching from the bridge held back in their anger. It happened without anyone noticing, the green and golden arrow went right through the forehead of the orc making him tumbled backwards until he fell dead.

Thorin turned around to see Legolas clenching his jaw, lowering his bow while his eyes screamed anger and hatred. For some unknown reason, Thorin could feel the anger coming from Legolas but mostly, he could sense the sadness and sorrow.

“Thank you.” Thorin said to Legolas, the young elf stood there for a second, he shook his head turning to Thorin.

“What are we going to do?” Legolas questioned, Thorin smirked turning to the enrage orcs, the big one was snarling glaring at him.

“You have you answer now, filth! No respectful Dwarf would kneel to you or your Lord!” Thorin exclaimed. “Call upon that bastard Azog and tell him my sword is anxious to taste his blood again and this time around I will make sure his head is detached from his body!”

The dwarven guards all scream in agreement lifting their weapons and making rude gestures to the orcs. Glorfindel quirked a brow at how fast diplomacy and politics had been shaken to the ground, not that he expected orcs would be merciful or anything like this. Legolas seemed rather taken aback but also rather restless before the oncoming battle. Glorfindel observed as Thorin guided them to a small chamber, always careful to be near Legolas. It was then the Captain of the Elven guards noticed something different coming from Thorin, he realized the Dwarven-Prince _smell_ differently, there was a light in him; it wasn’t bright but still to the trained eye it could be observed. Glorfindel softened slightly realizing something had happened between Thorin and Thranduil, something both Princes were just starting to experience. For a brief moment, Glorfindel wondered if Legolas could sense it, if perhaps the young Prince could tell the protectiveness Thorin felt for him was not only born out of Thorin and his sense of responsibility but also due to his new bond with Thranduil. Perhaps, Legolas hadn’t noticed, not in the midst of so many important happenings; however, Glorfindel was not about to miss when the news would be revealed, now that could get pretty interesting.

“They are mocking us, they have come here to threaten us.” Thorin replied firmly. “We are not going to let them.”

Dwalin and Nori came in running, the generals right after them, Thorin stepped forward placing his hand on Dwalin while staring at the generals who were pale before the army of orcs.

“Now, do not be afraid warriors of Erebor.” Thorin spoke firmly, without a trace of warm in his voice. “We will fight, and those horrid creatures will fall.”

“But, Prince Thorin…”

“We will fight, general.” Thorin replied. “It’s not a request. It’s an order. Before we open the gates I want everyone ready. This is what we’re going to do.”

*****

Legolas had never seen a dwarf fight.

But, as soon as those gates were opened there was no mercy; the dwarves marched like one with their bodies covered in shinning mithril and iron. The sound they made as they marched to battle was enough to silence the noise coming from the orcs, the tension in the air was palpable and then, all of a sudden a horrid screeching could be heard all through the valley. The horns of the orcs only brought fear and uncertainty to the hearts of the dwarves that, nevertheless continued their march watching as their Prince started walking faster and faster until he was running.

Legolas witnessed first-hand why Dwarrows were some terrible enemies, he remembered the tales his father told him when they first were allowed to spend time together. He remembered the darkness of the First Age through those blue eyes when Thranduil narrated the stories behind the Fall of Doriath. Now, with Thorin by his side and the both of them engaged in a full out attack, Legolas could understand the wisdom behind his grandfather’s decision to make an unbreakable alliance with the Dwarves of Erebor.

As it was expected, when they exited the mountain charging at the orcs Bolg had already flown the place leaving the rest of his army there. Glorfindel didn’t expect the filthy creature to stay, to send the army of orcs in such an organized way while their general was safe and sound on top of the Hill seemed to be the strategy Azog had worked out. But, why? It was true this army outnumbered the Dwarrows of Erebor, still everyone knew of the absurdity of fighting dwarves when they were so close to home fighting with a Dwarven-Prince like Thorin leading them.

“Master? What is it?” Legolas swirled around his blade cutting of an enemy as he saw Glorfindel approached him.

“I’ll be moving to Ravenhill, the orc that came to the gates, I know him.” Glorfindel explained to Legolas while Thorin occupied himself with the fighting.

The Dwarven-prince furrowed his brows tilting his head for a moment, “You know him? How is it possible?”

“The spawn of Azog it is well-known to the Elves of the Golden Forest.” Glorfindel said glancing at Legolas, the young elf paled but Glorfindel offered a small smile of reassurance. “He had created great terror on the lands of my kin, if he is here with his father then I am afraid there are more orcs than the ones we seen here.”

“More?” Legolas replied stepping back to give Glorfindel more space for a semi-circle, the sword of the elf came crashing against the scimitar of an orc.

“Yes, Prince Legolas, I have taught you all I know about fighting.” Glorfindel turned to Legolas. “Be careful and take good care of Prince Thorin.”

Legolas swallowed nodding curtly, “I will Master.”

“I don’t need him taking care of me, Master Glorfindel.” Thorin grumbled hitting another orc and turning dryly to Glorfindel. “It is me the one who is going to take good care of him. Don’t worry, I’m not about to face the wrath of Thranduil if anything were to happen to him.”

“Good.” Glorfindel smiled.

“But, Captain Glorfindel, you should not go alone.” Thorin commented breathing heavily, he pointed to some dwarves standing close by. “You will go with Captain Glorfindel to Ravenhill and assist him in whatever it is he needs.”

“My Prince?” One of the warriors questioned turning his eyes to the elf then back to Thorin.

“You heard me, Lad. Captain Glorfindel will act as your Captain. Go! Ravenhill and the rest of our kin needs us!” Thorin commanded, after he said this there was no more doubt the warriors all went to Glorfindel who gave Thorin a bow of his head then he and a group of ten dwarves were gone.

The Prince was left with Legolas and some other dwarves surrounding him, he looked around at the battlefield and his blood boil at the sight of many of his people falling under the attacks of the orcs. Thorin growled taking his axe and moving forward without giving the battle a second thought, Legolas took his bow and cleaned the path before Thorin firing arrow after arrow with the aim and precision of his people.

Thorin turned left his axe dancing in front of him cracking open skulls and armours, out of the corner of his eyes he always had Legolas close by moving swiftly and with grace without any signs of tiredness in his body. When Thorin organized his people it had been done so rather quickly, but his plan had received the approval of the generals and Glorfindel; he had divided his forces in four different blocks, the first one was standing behind Thorin with their shields upfront, the second one was formed by the archers and those carrying spears and the third one by the ones holding the axes, the maces and the swords. The fourth block hadn’t come out yet, but Thorin wasn’t particularly worried about it, he knew this fourth block had gone to the back of the mountain to get the war-goats ready for battle. They just had to hold onto the army of orcs until their help and that of Bard and Thranduil arrived. There were many orcs, but the dwarves were strong and fought as if they had been born just for this.

Legolas exclaimed in surprise when an orc approached him with a spear, he evaded the first attack but it was obvious he could not be so lucky with a second one. Thorin didn’t even hesitated to position himself right in front of the attacker, the Prince winced in pain while his axe took the head of the orc in one clean slash. Thorin put his free hand on the wound grumbling while turning to Legolas.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, but Thorin, you’re bleeding.” Legolas went to help but there was no rest for them.

Thorin kept his hand on the wound stepping back, always containing the attackers but it was evident whenever they killed one or two another four replaced them. Legolas fought fiercely, the Dwarrows beside them tried to form a circle around their Prince but Thorin had moved forward axe in hand crashing skulls and breaking armours. There was nothing stopping their Prince and thus the Dwarves of Erebor kept on fighting.  Legolas pursed his lips his footsteps sliding without any trouble on the ground, his limbs growing heavy whenever they aimed for another orc, the Prince glanced at Thorin out of the corner of his eyes feeling apprehension when he saw blood on the wound. The Elven-prince stood behind Thorin, his hands circled around and the sword of his father sang in vengeance while taking the lives of orcs and wargs, left and right.

Even if they were fighting with ferocious resolution it was obvious the Dwarves could not keep going like this. Many of them were tired already and the wall of contingency of the enemies seemed to be on a stalemate instead of winning any terrain for the dwarves. Thorin himself was tired, half of his thoughts on Legolas and the other half on Thranduil. Laughter, cold and cruel was heard, the voice of Azog the defiler was carried by the winds of war all through the valley, the horns of the orcs resounded again and Thorin heard the hatred with which Azog spoke to him.

“Kill them! Kill them all! Destroy them! But leave Oakenshield to me.”

Whether this was what Thorin heard in real life or as an illusion, the Dwarven-Prince did not know. The only thing he really knew was they wouldn’t last any longer.

“I won’t let filth like this to take over Erebor or my people!” Thorin exclaimed with renewed strength. His axe gleamed even with the dark blood staining the blade, he stepped forward one step at a time, then another until he stopped moving backwards and started moving forward.

“Du Bekar!! Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu!” Prince Thorin Oakenshield screamed until his voice could be heard by those around him, his people watched as their Prince went straight ahead to take on his enemies with his axe beheading three orcs in the process.

The battle field was pure confusion but the dwarves seemed to be inspired by their leader and they stepped forward running with their weapons at the ready wounding or killing their enemies.

Legolas watched Thorin out of the corner of his eyes, he could see the tiredness there with big drops of sweat falling down the Dwarven-Prince face. The wound was bleeding profusely and Legolas realized Thorin was favouring his left side while leaving open the right one. The prince slashed another warg turning to aid Thorin when another set of horns was heard in the Valley. The battle seemed to be suspended for a moment, all the attention was given to the place where this new sound was coming from. Legolas felt relief filling his heart when he realized it wasn’t only on the path leading to the dwarven port or to Dale, it was also on Ravenhill where the banners of the Woodland Realm could be seen and with them an army of Elves had arrived.

Thorin smirked his eyes went to the shining armours of the elves coming their way, looking with desperation the familiar form of Thranduil but being distracted for the furore of the battle. Thorin shook his head and the orcs seemed now more desperate not having counted with the apparition of this newcomers.

“My father is here!” Legolas exclaimed joining Thorin, his body turning to the left with his hand giving a light turn the sword went right through an orcs neck. “And King Bard! And the Dúnedain!”

“How far can you see, Legolas?” Thorin questioned slightly shocked, he lifted his eyes to try and get a better look but was rudely interrupted by another attack. Thorin kicked an orc, his axe finding no resistance when it fall upon the chest of yet another enemy.

“Far enough to tell you he is here.” Legolas sounded reassured, his strength seemed renewed and his movements became faster and more lethal. He moved around with grace, his limbs making impossible motions, his heart beating fast as the adrenaline in him grew.

“Well, he better be far away from King Bard or else…”

Legolas faltered for a second, he turned sharply to Thorin only to see the Dwarven-Prince giving him a half-smile. There was a moment in which Legolas wondered if perhaps Thorin new the true about him. However, there was no time, they were soon overcome by a group of goblins and orcs wanting to get lucky.

“To the Prince!!” Dwalin’s voice reached Thorin who twirled his axe around, he tilted his head to see Dwalin riding his war-goat with another empty one by his side.

The fourth block with the war-goats had arrived and the animals were running wildly forming a big stampede that crashed orcs and goblins under their hoofs. The scene was soon clear and Thorin and Legolas had a moment of rest watching as the army of orcs, trolls, wargs and goblins ran rampage in a disorganized manner. The surprised attack done by the elves and the men had worked in destabilizing the creatures and now, along with the dwarves the panorama seemed more favourable. Still, instead of seeing a diminishing of their enemies Thorin could swore the amount of filthy creatures had not decreased. Dwalin stopped his war-goat beside Thorin looking around before centring his attention on his friend.

“I thought you may want this to join Prince Thranduil over there.” Dwalin commented with a half-smirk pointing to some place where Thorin could see a huge mount and the golden hair of Thranduil could be seen right beside King Bard.

Thorin grumbled furrowing his brow, “I believe I would like that.”

Legolas chuckled caressing the fur of _Stardust_ , “I cannot ride one of this, Prince Thorin.”

“Don’t worry, we thought about you as well.” Dwalin whistled and soon Legolas white horse came in.

Thorin prepared himself taking of the helmet that was blocking his vision while fixing some details on his armour he pulled on the reins of _Stardust_ watching the battle field. His heart was already bleeding with sorrow at the sight of many Dwarrows on the ground bleeding amongst the bodies of the many enemies they had taken with them.

“Dwalin, I want you to regroup the second block call back all the shields you can and start a diamond formation.” Thorin commanded, he realized Nori and Dori were right behind him his eyes moved past them to see many others were waiting for his command.

“Dori, I want you to go to the general of the first block. Reunited all the spears you can and go to the right flank.” Dori nodded taking off as soon as he could. “Nori, you will stay with me, all of you get ready! Our goal is Ravenhill.”

Thorin pointed the hill with his axe, his eyes gleaming dangerously as they found the white form of Azog, the pale orc standing mockingly above the Hill overlooking his work of malice and destruction.

“We will take down this snake and then show everyone why no one should mess up with the Dwarves of Erebor!”

*****

Thranduil almost froze on the spot when he saw the war happening in front of his eyes.

It was not easy to erase the wave of memories invading his mind when he was face to face with another battle. He remembered the Fall of Doriath, the screams of terror, the fires and the bodies all around the place he had called home once. He remembered the battles in between, the moments in which he had been called to fight for a cause that wasn’t completely his but that it was part of his legacy. He recalled the fires of Mordor and the Battle of the Last Alliance. It was all a myriad of bad memories in which he had lost many things, his own capacity to try and feel something beyond pain. Thranduil grabbed his swords tightly, he felt the weight of his armour on his shoulders and the mocking sound of his cloak wavering under the cold wind.

His elk fastened his hoofs shaking his head while feeling the discomfort of his master, Thranduil placed a calming hand on him tilting his head to see his father watching the Valley before them. Lord Arathorn was furrowing his brows, tensed and anxious, he was about to give the order much like Bard seemed to be to Thranduil’s left side. King Oropher turned to face his son, the King’s eyes softened for a second and then Thranduil was remembered of those times in which he was a child and his father had been different.

“ _Gurth gothrim Tel'Quessir_.” King Oropher spoke and his voice, even though the noise of battle was great, was heard amongst his kin.

The standard bearers lifted the symbol of Greenwood and the House of Oropher, it was a signal awaited by the second forces of the King standing before Ravenhill. Thranduil felt his heart beat faster as he started marching ahead, his mind and heart with one goal in mind. The horns of the elves sounded and the battle seemed to be stopped by this sudden appearance, the orcs and the rest of the foul creatures seemed enraged and scare by this, while the dwarves seemed highly surprised. It didn’t take long for everyone to join in the battle, and soon the clash of metal against metal could be heard above the exclamations of pain or war.

It had been a long time since a union like this one had been seen. Dwarves, elves and men all fighting together against a common enemy. There was no time to think, only to react; Bard was faced with a battle he never thought he would fight in his lifetime. He didn’t regret it though, watching Thranduil wielding swords and commanding his elk with such easiness was a sight to behold. The King however couldn’t be distracted for too long for he saw himself facing his share of enemies as soon as they broke the back defences of the orcs.

Thranduil lifted his eyes from time to time, _Aranrúth_ sang thirsty for more blood of his enemies. Made of elvish metal and with elvish magic, the blade gleamed a deep blue surrounded by enemies taking the dark lives while protecting its owner. _Suldal_ , or _Windfoot_ in the common tongue, made sure his antlers were always busy charging against its attackers. Nothing came closer to Thranduil that the Elven-Prince didn’t kill without a single ounce of mercy, or the elk wasn’t ready to undertake. In the midst of the chaos, Thranduil had some difficulty in finding Thorin. His heart was about to give up, the coldness in his soul was overwhelming and just when he was about to give in another murderous rampage he felt it: a wave of warmness covering his soul making his abdomen tingled and his body shivered in comfort. He lifted his eyes and found him looking dishevelled, brutish and dirty but still Thorin; the Dwarven-Prince was riding his war-goat and beside him Legolas rode his horse both of them commanding a whole cavalry of war-goats with many of the dwarves shooting arrows or piercing their enemies with their swords, maces or spears.

“I have never thought those war-goats were so dangerous.” Bard commented beside Thranduil, his sword dripping black blood. “I believe he is coming for you, that frown doesn’t seem to be directed to the orcs, though.”

Thranduil turned to Bard glaring at the man who was smiling mockingly, “Thank you, King Bard, for pointing this out to me. Shall we meet with them?”

“Well, we may as well do so.” Bard lifted his face to the air watching the approaching shadows of strange birds in the air. “It doesn’t matter how many of these creatures I have killed, they seemed to keep on coming.”

Their encounter in battle was not like they had envisioned it, they thought about finding one another fighting protecting the other or perhaps arriving as some kind of saviour. They had thought they would meet by the time everything was over; but instead of this they found one another in the midst of the battle. The small space they found was protected by the entourage of Dwarven cavalry and Royal guards for King Bard and Thranduil himself. The battle was still happening around them, above the hill and in front of Erebor; but Thorin and Thranduil found this moment to reassure one another they were there and they were close. For Thorin it felt like years since he had last seen Thranduil, his eyes softened completely gleaming with a sort of warm no one had seen on the Dwarven-Prince before. His lips curved upwards forming a strange smile, his features showed this encounter was all he had been waiting for. Thranduil shivered under those eyes, but he remained impassive with only his eyes speaking for him. Then the Elven-Prince drifted his eyes away from Thorin to Legolas, his son was well and dressed like a warrior with some vembrance and a Dwarven armour protecting his chest, arms and legs.

“An elk?” Thorin was the first to speak and his voice was tainted with humour. “Somehow, I am not surprise, Prince Thranduil, you decide to ride on such a pompous and eccentric ride.”

Thranduil narrowed his eyes, his left hand caressing the soft fur of _Suldal_ , “Careful, _Suldal_ doesn’t like smartasses.”

“And yet, he lets you ride him.” Thorin replied, Legolas covered his laughter behind his hand while Bard seemed to be slightly uncomfortable. “Can’t blame him though, he seems to resemble you in some manner.”

Thranduil rolled his eyes while _Suldal_ snorted and nodded threateningly to Thorin, apparently the elk didn’t take kindly to the mocking. Thorin chuckled when _Stardust_ huffed hurrying his hooves on the ground.

“You are one to talk. Riding this beast that seems far too comfortable glaring at me whenever he has the chance.” Thranduil replied glaring at _Stardust. “_ Just like his master.”

Thorin rolled his eyes quirking a brow, “At least my ride doesn’t occupy half of the battlefield and doesn’t seem too eccentric. Really, how did you convince King Oropher to let you keep him?”

“My dear Lords, I’m pretty sure this conversation is highly amusing for the both of you but I’m afraid we do not have the time to discuss the nature of Dwarven and Elven mounts.” Bard interrupted the bickering glancing from one Prince to the other with just a hint of disbelief. “I believe we’re at war.”

“King Bard is right.” Thranduil replied and Thorin grumbled glaring at Bard before settling his eyes on Thranduil, the Elven-Prince gave him a half-smirk. “There will be time for this conversation. I should be glad I could see you and Legolas in the midst of this disaster.”

Thorin nodded softening, “I’m glad as well. Fighting now is going to be easier.”

Thranduil nodded and Bard shifted slightly uncomfortable before this strange meeting, Legolas furrowed his brows with his eyes deeply focused on his father then on Thorin. Thorin then shifted his stance turning to Bard with seriousness.

“I want to thank you, King Bard. For coming in our aid.”

“Prince Thorin I shall always honour my word and my alliances.” Bard replied bowing his head to Thorin. “I will always come to the aid of my friends as well.”

Thorin shot Bard a calculating stare, his shoulders tensed completely yet Thorin was unable to see any ill-intended meaning behind the King’s words. The Dwarven-Prince noticed the signs of sorrow in Bard and, for a moment, Thorin felt sorry for him because he understood how terrible could it be to love someone that didn’t love you back. Thorin then turned to Thranduil and his soul felt at ease finding those blue eyes focused solely on him.

“As do the Dwarrows of Erebor, King Bard.” Thorin replied. “I except after this we can all be friends instead of allies. I believe a friendship last longer.”

Bard nodded in agreement sharing a half-smile with the Dwarven-Prince, Thranduil sighed in relief and then the sound coming from the battle reached everyone and reality touched them with the smell of fire and dead. Thranduil straightened up wielding his swords before turning his attention to Thorin.

“Have you thought of another plan to take over the Valley?” Thranduil finally asked.

Thorin nodded towards Ravenhill, his face falling into a more serious and enrage expression, “Only one way. To take the sneak’s head so the rest of this absurdity can be stopped.”

“You know of Azog then.” Thranduil stated with his voice tainted with apprehension.

“How do you know?” Thorin inquired, Thranduil looked around then back at Bard.

“I do not believe this is the time or the place for such a conversation.” Thranduil pointed to the gates of Erebor, the dwarves holding back the forces of trolls were starting to back up, the left gate had been broken and some were even engaging attacking forces at the very gate of Erebor. “Erebor needs us.”

“Indeed.” Thorin replied the Dwarven warriors all furrowed their brows having heard the words of the elf, many of them had seen Thranduil of course. Many had come to appreciate him while some others still doubted him; those words, the real concern he was showing for Erebor…the soldiers glanced at Thranduil with a new light in their eyes. “Captain Gruhof!”

“My prince?” The captain approached Thorin, the Prince turned to him then to the rest of the riders.

“The gates are being attacked, I want you to take half the forces and make an opening for us. Send word to Dwalin, Bofur and Bilbo to meet me at the gates.” Thorin turned then to Nori. “Nori, take the rest of the riders to Ravenhill, our people need us up there and the elves need our help. Make sure these bastards understand who they are dealing with.”

“What about you? What you gonna do?” Nori questioned the Prince furrowing his brows in concern.

“My mission is to make sure the Mountain is safe, as soon as the threat at the gates is over I will join you in Ravenhill.” Thorin lifted his face clenching his jaw. “Don’t engage Azog, leave the bastard to me.”

“As you wish, my Liege. Do not take too long or I won’t be able to keep my promise.” Nori then lifted his arm and directed half the forces to Ravenhill while Captain Gruhof made way for the Prince while sending messengers to the Prince’s friends.

*****

Oín, Bifur, Bombur and Bofur were commanding the resistance force in front of the gates.

Facing two trolls and more than a hundredth orcs the four friends command the warriors of Erebor while holding them back and preventing these creatures from entering the Mountain. Their mission was in danger though, even with the arrival of the elves and the men these creatures had one goal in mind: to destroy any evidence of the Dwarves of Erebor. Bofur and Bifur circled a group of them with their hammers at hand, the engage the fight and the fire with which they fought inspire many of the warriors beside them. However, many of them were young and tired and the presence of trolls in the battle was not a reassuring thought. Much less when this trolls carried with them great maces and were capable of throwing great stones to the gate.

Bombur growled pushing with his belly one of the orcs while moving around the long hammer he had with him. The dwarf gasped when he realized a warg was coming his way, but this animal soon howled in pain as three arrows went right through his skull. Bombur lifted his eyes in relief watching as Thranduil put his bow back on his back, Thorin came in with _Stardust_ charging against more wargs and soon both Princes were beside the protectors of the gate.

“It was about time, my Prince.” Bofur commented looking over at Thorin. “I thought you want me, my brother and my cousin to have all the fun.”

“Nay, Bofur, you seem to enjoy yourself far too much I have to come in and see what all the fuss was about.” Thorin replied dismounting _Stardust_ and engaging in another fight.

“Prince Thranduil, I see you are still as peculiar as always.” Bofur commented to which Thranduil rolled his eyes, the elf placed a hand on the neck of his elk turning his left leg and holding the weight of his body on his hand. He dismounted his elk with grace falling on top of an orc while his hands moved to put his swords out.

Suldal charged in to the wargs in front of him and much like _Stardust_ when Thorin was not longer on him went in to protect their masters. Legolas lifted his face, the one of the gates was barely holding itself on the hinges and one of the trolls seemed to be aiming to the fallen gate. The young Prince looked up then at the troll, _Ithilmegil_ sang as Legolas wielded it slaying the orcs coming at him. He stepped back jumping up until his free hand grabbed the borders of the gate, he balanced himself slightly until he could stand on the thick border of the gate. With great ability, the Elven-Prince climbed the gate placing his sword back on the sheath, he balanced his weight on his light feet his eyes narrowing when he saw the troll approaching the gate with yet another stone. He put his bow and an arrow out aiming to the troll’s eye. Twice Legolas shot his arrows and twice he succeed in making the troll blind, the creature howled in pain throwing the stone carelessly and killing a group of orcs in the process. The creature waved his hands in agony, Legolas measure the distance took a few steps back and then ran fast before jumping up. He put _Ithilmegil_ out of the sheath burying it deep inside the head of the troll, the creature staggered around and soon it feel to the ground dead.

Cheers were heard and Legolas stood up putting _Ithilmegil_ out of the trolls skull, the Prince smiled when he saw many of the dwarves cheering on him. He turned to see Thranduil and Thorin glaring at him though he could also see the hint of pride in Thorin’s eyes.

“You and I will have a conversation about doing foolish things when this is over.” Thranduil warned his son but Legolas was far too excited by what he had done to be overly worried. Beside, Bofur, Bifur, Bombur and Thorin were all congratulating him before going back to the battle.

The orcs around the gate were pulling back, even the two trolls left where slightly hesitant to do something else. The few resistance they found at the gates was soon controlled by the time Dwalin and the others got there, one of the trolls jumped groaning in pain and then he fell on his knees looking around for what had caused such discomfort on his talons. Dwalin charged at it slashing the side of the trolls face and then a group of dwarves merely pierced the skull with their spears.

Thorin was breathing hard, he lifted his axe finishing of the two orcs he was fighting he clenched his jaw almost falling to his knees. The Dwarven-Prince shook his head lowering his gaze to the nasty wound he had on his side, he made sure to be careful when placing his left arm around it to make it difficult for anyone to see the blood pouring from the wound.

“I was told you need me, Prince Thorin?” Bilbo came right behind him with Sting out of his sheath and gleaming blue beside the hobbit.

Thorin turned to Bilbo nodding, “Master Baggins I hope you’re doing fine?”

“Yes, you know me only engaging when no one can see me.” Bilbo replied then he turned around to see Thranduil approaching them. “Prince Thranduil, I’m glad to see you again healthy and with such magnificent armour.”

“Master Baggins, I believe there must be an interesting story behind your elvish blade.” Thranduil replied. “I’m glad to see you well and to see you have something protecting you.”

Dwalin came in watching the damage done to the gate, he organized a group of warriors making then form a protective shield around the gates. King Bard had long ago kept on his way deciding to engage on the left flank alongside Lord Arathorn. Thorin placed his axe on the ground looking around to some members of his company and a few of the warriors of Erebor. His eyes fell then on Thranduil, his appearance was dishevelled with dust and blood covering his armour and face, his hair dirty for the fight.

“I believe it is time for us to move to Ravenhill, I haven’t heard a word of what is going on there.” Thorin turned his head to the left in the direction of the Iron Hills. “We parted ways with Dáin almost two days ago, even if he is fast in his riding I’m not so sure they’re going to get here on time to help us.”

“And these creatures seemed to be multiplying themselves.” Bofur replied. “Those caves they opened, I believed we need to close them.”

Thorin nodded turning his attention to Bombur, “Besides Balin, you’re the other dwarf I know that can work around the powder with such efficiency. Do you think you can make something to seal off those holes?”

Bombur scratched his chin nodding, “Yeah, I could but I need materials.”

“Go then, took whoever you need and then organized them to seal off those caves.” Thorin commanded, Bombur nodded leaving his Prince while calling upon a couple of the warriors.

“What are you planning to do now, Thorin?” Thranduil inquired already sensing the answer.

“Azog…I can’t believe…” Thorin shook his head. “I’m going to end with the live of the bastard. We will march to Ravenhill.”

There was no rest for the Prince of Erebor, and his plans had to be postponed for, without any warning, the wheel of fate turned against him bringing several incidents at the same time putting Thorin Oakenshield in a difficult position.

A strange explosion distracted the group, black smoke erupted around them when Thorin tried to look ahead of him he could only see the green cloak of a dwarf. A green cloak he could recognized anywhere, there was a great disturbance in the midst of this sudden attack just as another sound of growing screams asking for help could be heard at the other side of the battlefield. Thorin coughed narrowing his eyes while trying to see what was going on. The Prince saw a flash of blue and he could hear Thranduil screaming above the noise around him.

“THORIN!” The Dwarven-Prince turned to the source of the voice and his eyes opened wide when he saw a sword coming his way. Too late to do anything Thorin merely stepped back holding back any exclamation of pain when the point of the sword went through his shoulder. His attacker however didn’t move any further, the sword faltered and Thorin stepped back only to see the dark blue of a small sword.

“Thorin, move!” Bilbo grabbed his friend by his wound arm pulling him out of the black smoke, Thorin coughed and he saw many of his friend were engaged in confusing quarrel with dwarves. Dwarves wearing the green symbol of the Greenstone Clan.

Bilbo growled running towards another dwarf, Sting gleamed dangerously cutting the dwarf’s legs giving Dwalin the advantage. Soon the fight was controlled but the screams asking for help could still be heard outside of the protective barrier. Thorin turned around to see another army coming out from one of the holes in the hill, he could see the trolls and the wargs and orcs and the army of men and elves and dwarves being cornered. Thorin turned around only to see the black smoke dissipating letting the Dwarven-Prince noticed the corpse of the younger son of the Lord of the Greenstone Clan: Naluk laid there with his eyes open and blood pouring out from the deadly wound Bilbo had inflicted in him.

“What happened?” Dwalin came to him glancing at the bleeding wound on Thorin’s shoulder.

“The Greenstone Clan.” Thorin grumbled waving away Dwalin’s questioning look. “I’m fine. How are the others?”

“Thorin, Thorin…” Bilbo came to him and his face was a mask of pure concern.

“Bilbo? What is it? Are you hurt?” Bilbo shook his head watching around before turning to Thorin.

“They took them.” Bilbo didn’t need to explain what he meant for Thorin knew what the hobbit was talking about. He turned desperate to the dispelling curtain of smoke before turning to the fight going on in front of Erebor.

“Where?”

“I…I don’t know but they…damn, they hurt Legolas and Bofur still has some wounds and they….I’m worried about Bombur, those were his speciality.”

Thorin stood on the spot with his axe trembling on his hand, his free hand going to the hilt of his sword. He lifted his head to Dwalin with conflict in his eyes, Dwalin clenched his jaw unable to give any advice to his Lord. Thorin turned to Erebor then back to the battle, his heart suddenly shrank and felt a pain like no other he had felt and Thorin knew without a doubt Thranduil was in danger.

“Go.” Dwalin said suddenly.

Thorin lifted his face and there was a broken stare on his eyes, he hesitated before shaking his head. “This fight isn’t over. I cannot…even if my heart breaks…”

“Dáin is here.” Dwalin said suddenly. “Go after those bastards, go and make sure my father and Balin and Gloin are fine. Go and make sure Thranduil and Legolas are fine.”

“Dáin?” Thorin questioned and just as he said this two different set of horns could be heard in the Valley, Bilbo lifted his eyes pointing at the sky.

“The Eagles!”

Thorin lifted his head watching as a group of great eagles overflew the battlefield, then he turned his stared to the road leading to the Iron Hills and he realized why the second set of horns sounded strange yet familiar. There standing beside Dáin where the strange creatures he had rode a few days ago and the Avari stood with their bows lifted to the sky and a rain of arrows made of red and black fell upon the enemies coming out of the caverns.

Help had arrived at the right moment for now Prince Thorin had another enemy to fight before this was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was really hard to write because I did have to mention the fight but it wasn't the main focus of the story, you will know what I mean next chapter. However, I hope I did get the fighting and the war correctly and I hope you enjoy it. By the way. a few chapters ago I pointed out there was a Dwarven city near the Long Lake and that was almost a day away from Erebor, then I realized I need Bard and Thranduil to be on time for the battle so for the sake of this fact this city of Dwarves is that far away but Dale is much closer to Erebor, only five hours away, more or less what I could tell from the movie. 
> 
> Next chapter Thorin would be face to face with death, the Greenstone Clan and his father...some decisions have to be made and Thranduil may be as well the one to do so if only to make sure Legolas and Thorin are okay.


	20. The Fall of the King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin has to face his father with unexpected consequences, Thranduil is right there to help him out and the battle for Ravenhill ends in ways Thorin may regret in the near future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry guys!! Work has been quite eventful as well as university, I've been so busy I haven't had the time to write properly. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, I apologize for any grammar, spelling or funny mistake you may find here.

**Chapter 20**

**The Fall of the King**

 

In all the time he had lived in the mountain, Bilbo Baggins didn’t remember a moment in which everything was so silent. So dark. So tense.

The streets were empty with the only source of light coming from the dwarvish torches with blue and yellow luminosity. In the middle of this silence, the footsteps of Thorin and his companions echoed through the empty halls of the Mountain. Behind them, the gates of Erebor had been put under the care of Dwalin and the rest of the company; on their way to pursue the Greenstone Clan they had come across a weary Bombur, the dwarf had with him three more warriors all of them carrying the powder necessary to seal off the caverns from where the orcs and wargs kept on coming to take over Erebor. Bilbo had observed as Bombur apologized for letting these traitor’s take some of the smoke bombs and to let them walk past them with Thranduil and Legolas being dragged by ropes. Thorin had brushed this off ordering Bombur to go back to the battle and to make sure the caverns were closed. Bilbo however knew this was not fine, he could see the worry attached to his friends face, he could see the strength with which he was holding onto his sword while he tried to keep under control the pain from his wounds.

The hobbit of the Shire grabbed Sting following with quick footsteps the Dwarrows that had become his friends from a very early age. For Bilbo this sudden surge of heroism from his friends was not strange, regardless of what other races thought of about dwarves, Bilbo knew how loyal and how heroic they could be when the situation called upon these acts. Bilbo glanced out of the corner of his eyes at Thorin who was biting the inside of his cheeks while his left hand twitched in a comforting way. The silence grew between them as they started walking faster and faster trying to reach the Royal Palace before something were to happen to the Royal elves.

“Is there something the matter, Master Baggins? You know you didn’t have to come.” Thorin turned to Bilbo having noticed the lingering stare of the hobbit on him.

Bilbo shook his head lifting the blue elvish blade with his right hand, “I know, I have come because I can’t let you or the others come all alone to face these awful Dwarrows and your father. You need someone with brains in this mission.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nori questioned turning to glare at Bilbo.

“It means what it means, Nori.” Bilbo retorted with a smug smirk in place. Thorin snorted while Nori grumbled about cheeky hobbits. Bilbo then turned to Thorin again, this time around his face took in a more serious expression.

“How are you doing, Thorin? Are you ready for this?” Bilbo was the only one brave enough to question the Prince so directly though most of the company was thinking exactly the same thing.

Thorin Oakenshield hadn’t noticed how much he was going to miss Thranduil’s presence or the warm of their growing connection until the parted ways a day or so ago; however, now that he knew Thranduil was in certain danger the connection had cool down, wavering between helplessness and a sense of danger.  With his heart beating in anxiousness and his mind working on the possible scenarios he would have to face, Thorin wasn’t too sure about the answer he should give Bilbo.  He knew the situation with his father was at its wit’s end, but he didn’t feel ready to face him in the way his friends were expecting him to do. Even if his father had lost his way, he was still his father and the King Under the Mountain; still Thorin knew if his father was far too gone in this strange sickness something must be done because war was at their gate’s and time was not on their side.

“I’m doing fine, Bilbo. Don’t worry about me.” Thorin finally answered walking firmly and with determination written on his face. “I do not know what we’re going to be facing ahead of us, the only thing I know is we need to stop this nonsense and go back to the battle, our people needs us. We need to do this because I do not want to be far away from the battlefield leaving the protection of the Mountain to everyone else.”

Oín shot a quick glance to Bilbo then to Bifur and Nori, they knew how guilty Thorin was feeling for being where he was. They understood the sense of protectiveness the Dwarven-Prince had regarding Erebor and his people; but they also knew and had seen the growing love Thorin felt for Thranduil. They had been there to see the evolving relationship between both Princes and they knew this was something Thorin needed to do by himself. Thorin approached the street leading to the Royal Palace, Bilbo knew a confrontation with the Kin was inevitable for Thorin had not been there to see his father descended into a strange darkness while the young Prince was away. Bilbo and the others knew how much Thráin had changed, how his interested on gold and wealth had turned painfully obvious as time passed by.

The Dwarven-Prince saw the distinct marks on the walls and the ground announcing the proximity of his home, while his heart was on the mission his mind was going back to the battlefield. The guiltiness he felt was urging him to end this one and for all before going back to protect the Kingdom. Thorin was hit by a sudden tingling in his soul and heart but as sudden as this had happened a cold shiver went right through him making him think something was wrong. His first thoughts were directed to Thranduil and then to Legolas until he realized he was walking so fast he could just started running and end this pretense of dignity.  If Thorin went to concentrate hard enough he could tell Thranduil was scared and enraged.

“I think we’re here.” Oín interrupted nodding ahead of them.

“Well, here we are. This is so going to be a mess. Promise me you be careful, all of you.” Bilbo commented looking around.

“We’ll be all right, Bilbo. Don’t worry about us.” Thorin commented placing his hand on the hobbit’s shoulder.

Bilbo nodded but his eyes soon found those of Bifur, Nori and Oín, all of them were just as worried as he was about Thorin. No one dare to say anything else, they merely followed their Prince as he entered the Royal Palace with his axe on his back and his sword on his hand. Bilbo stepped backwards as it was his costume and without them noticing he slid the ring on his finger. Oín turned to where he thought Bilbo was, the healer shook his head looking around but unable to spot the hobbit. The healer went then to step forward and place himself beside Thorin knowing if something were to happen Bilbo would be their last hope.

Just like the mountain, the Royal Palace was immersed in silence with only their footsteps echoing in the big halls. As Thorin approached the gates leading to the throne he could sense the warm coming from Thranduil, a red light of alarm lifted in his mind making Thorin stopped a few centimeters away from the gate.  Thorin tilted his head glancing over at his friends, all of them had their weapons on their hands and the only one missing was Bilbo; this didn’t bother Thorin too much, he knew the hobbit must be close. Thorin observed the gate taking a deep breath before pushing the door open.

The Throne Room was looking gloomy and cold, the light reflected by the blue and yellow torches created strange and eerie shadows making the group surrounding the Throne bigger and menacing. It didn’t take long for Thorin to located his father, the Dwarven-King was sitting on the newly build Throne with his back resting comfortably against the high back of the chair with gold and silver and precious gems creating a strange halo that was surrounding the King. The Dwarven-Prince hesitated when he realized there was another shadowy figure on the floor by the stairs leading to the throne chair; a mixture of emotions clashed in his heart when he realized Legolas was tied by his hands and legs with blood pouring down from his forehead and his hair and clothes disheveled. Legolas lifted his eyes to stare at Thorin, the young Prince was looking far from defeated though. His eyes were as hard as steal and as cold as winter, they were gleaming dangerously while a soft growl left his throat. Thorin felt anger ripped through his soul making him tense and approached the young elf hastily.

His movements were halted, however, when another figure appeared from behind the elf. Lord Novar smirked with the silver blade of his sword pressing dangerously close to the elf’s neck, Thorin stopped glaring at Novar but soon his own attention was brought back to his father who chuckled darkly breaking the silence of the room. Thorin Oakenshield stood in the middle of the throne room with fear grasping his heart and anger clouding his judgment. The lights of the torches flickered around creating strange shadows around the faces of all the presents. No one said or did nothing, there was an eerie silence consuming the tension in the room while King and Prince faced one another with the same determination and stubbornness gleaming in their eyes.

The King sat on the throne he had decorated with gold, silver and precious gems; above his head rested the crown of the Dwarven Kingdom made of gold and mithril and the enchantments meant to protect the heart and soul of the mountain. The King wore an arrogant smirk, his eyes gleaming maliciously while his right hand held a beautiful gem zealously close to his chest, his left hand though…his left hand was grabbing the golden locks of a very disgruntled Thranduil. Much like his son, Thranduil had his arms and legs tied with just a small wound on the side of his lips. The Elven-Prince looked far from defeated but he was more cautious in his own reactions, Thorin could sense all the worry and dread the elf was feeling was directed to his son’s well-being. The Dwarven-Prince felt a sudden wave of protectiveness take over his senses when he realized the warm hope coming from Thranduil was directed to him.

Thorin then returned his attention to his father, he realized this was a scene he hadn’t even considered and cursed his lack of action to come as soon as he noticed Thranduil and Legolas had been taken.  The Dwarven-Prince tightened his hold on his sword, his dark eyes moved from his father to Lord Novar and then to Fundin, Gloin and Balin who were being held back by Lord Drugin and some of his followers. Thorin knew he could give the order, he knew Bilbo was around waiting for the Prince to do or say something; however, the Dwarven-Prince knew if violence was to be used Legolas and Thranduil would be harmed. Thorin hated feeling helpless, his eyes turned to see Nori, Oín and Bifur to his side all of them alerted to any movement coming from the members of the Greenstone Clan that were surrounding them. For a brief moment, Thorin shifted slightly and his eyes soon found those of Fundin, the old dwarf was standing to the right of the King with a black eye and blood pouring from his lip. The scene in itself was a strange one, Thorin had never expect for things to turn out quite the way they did; at the moment his own spirit was tore in pieces thinking about the battle outside the mountain, the warriors dying trying to protect their home while he was here facing his father in the middle of a strange yet crazy circumstance.

The King tilted his head pulling hard on Thranduil’s hair, the Elven-Prince bit the inside of his cheek refusing any kind of complain from his part. His clear, blue eyes found those of Thorin trying to reassure him, but all Thranduil could see was pain, anger and helplessness in Thorin’s eyes. Thorin grasped his sword with force, clenching his jaw while his eyes turned once again to his father; the King smirked quirking a brow leaning forward until his nose and mouth were close to the elf’s face.

“I’m going to enjoy marking this smooth, marbled skin.” The King spoke and when he did his voice resounded in the room, his eyes gleamed with madness just as his face transformed completely focusing his attention on the elf. “I’m going to enjoy showing him and everyone else who I am, I’m going to enjoy being King under the mountain for all eternity with these filthy creatures under my command.”

Thorin growled stepping forward; his movements were soon halted again when Novar made a sound while pressing the blade against Legolas. The young Elven-Prince struggled a little glaring with intensity to his captor while lifting his face in defiance. King Thráin grasped the Arkenstone on his hand with his attention firmly placed on Thranduil, he was ignoring the reaction coming from his son while his mind worked around the voices he kept hearing in his mind. The plans he had been forming were finally taking form in the way of a victory for him. He had heard the horns of war, Thráin had seen the desperation in Fundin’s face and he had already sensed what kind of dangers his people were facing. Nevertheless, Thráin’s real interested laid before him. Thranduil was the ultimate piece to his great ambition: immortal life, and Thorin was the last resistance to his own dreams. A resistance he was about to obliterate. As if this wasn’t enough, his mind was already working on different ways to take the Elven-Prince before him, he was already enjoying the sick fantasies of submitting the elf to his will and marking his skin as a property of the King Under the Mountain.

Thráin smirked ignoring the obvious discomfort coming from a tense Thranduil, his eyes turned to the side until the fell upon the form of his son. He shook his head; furrowing his brows he sat resting his back against the back of the throne. The King let go of Thranduil, the elf clenched his jaw shifting slightly while struggling with the rope around his wrists.

“What are you still doing here?” Thráin questioned looking directly into his son’s eyes. “I thought by now you have fallen under the hands of the orcs or even their commander, the one that killed my father and you were incapable of destroying.”

“You know we’re under attack?” Thorin questioned stepping forward a little, Fundin shook his head saddened looking from father to son. “You know your people is out there fighting for their lives and the protection of their home?”

“People come and go…” Thráin continued waving his hand unworriedly. “New subjects will be born and these filthy creatures won’t touch the mountain. They are here to take away my enemies while I claim what it is mine.”

Thorin looked affronted by this, his eyes lowered while he shook his head in disbelief. The Dwarven-Prince stepped forward again but he soon stopped when Thráin smiled at him while his left hand placed itself around the back of Thranduil’s neck. Thorin looked scare for a moment, Thranduil locked his eyes with him and Thorin didn’t need to read further inside such a stare to know Thranduil was worried about him, about Legolas and the situation.  Thorin didn’t need to look further into his connection with the Elven-Prince to know Thranduil was scare and was trying to seek comfort in Thorin’s presence. The King turned to Thranduil then to Thorin cackling quite maniacally while his right hand caressed tenderly the gem on his hand.

“Only a disgrace like you would fall in love with an elf.” Thráin laughed again pushing Thranduil hard enough to make him fall on the ground. The King stood up turning completely to his son, his left hand reaching for the Arkenstone brushing his fingertips on top of the smooth surface of the gem. “Always a disgrace, you couldn’t be like your sister or my beloved Frerin.”

Thráin stepped forward with his eyes on Thorin, the room was completely still following the scene with their eyes. Fundin shifted slightly trying to approach his King slowly, Thorin stood firmly in place with his head lifted to his father and his eyes gleaming with danger and determination.

“You have never deserved the Throne, never. Father was wrong, you…you’re not good enough to sit on the Throne. It has to be me.” Thráin made a face with his lips showing a crooked smile. “Don’t worry, don’t worry, I shall reign for all eternity and will make sure this elf Prince enjoys a true heir of Durin. Yes, I shall take him and make him scream my name and you…you will see before I have your head on a spear for treason.”

Thráin lifted his left hand with an accusing finger pointing directly to a now horrified Thorin, the words leaving his father’s mouth were hard to process but what was even harder and incredible was the fact Thráin seemed detached from the whole scene. Sometimes his eyes would focus on Thorin and some others they looked as if he was seeing someone else in the room, as if he was talking to himself or someone only he could see. Thorin trembled in anger stepping forward while lifting his sword, Thráin turned his head with his eyes watching the sharp blade of the sword.

“Father, are you even hearing yourself? Can you make sense of what words are you spitting out?” Thorin lowered his blade shaking his head. “I do not understand you hatred towards me but I won’t let you drag anyone else into this nonsense. Erebor needs you.”

The face of the King twisted in a displeased expression; he pressed the Arkenstone against his chest while his free hand sought the axe on his hips. Lord Novar turned to his father, Lord Drugin was watching the scene with eager eyes while he nodded towards his dwarves. Oín glanced out of the corner of his eyes crossing stares with Gloin who nodded superstitiously to the other dwarf. Fundin shook his head approaching his King from the right lifting his hand in a soothing manner, but the King had only eyes for his son his anger growing and growing while the heavy thoughts inside his head kept on pushing him to punish Thorin and finish with the life of his insolent heir.  

“Oh, I’m hearing myself just fine, boy.” Thráin snarled. “Everything is ready, the gold is safe, my reign is safe only my enemies remain but soon this is all going to change…yes, yes…I shall stand and you…you traitorous bastard will perish!”

Thorin clenched his jaw straightened himself up until he was looking taller and stronger than his father, the King made a face while moving defiantly against his son. Thorin thought over his words biting down his tongue to stop any stupid or hurried comment to leave his mouth.

“I do not know what I have done to earn your hatred, father.” He started noticing the bored expression on Thráin’s face while his son tried to assuage his father. “But, whatever it was I apologize for it. However, I want you to understand something, I won’t let you or anyone else to harm my home, my friends or the keeper of my heart. See reason, heard the cries of your people, father…please…Erebor needs his King.”

Thráin made a face of disgust before the supplicant tone of his son, in his mind he was remained of his wife the she-dwarf had been so weak and emotional it had become a threat to Thráin’s image of a firm and strong King. The King shook his head, the dark voices in his head telling him it was about time for him to end what the orcs at the gates of Erebor couldn’t do, he needed to do what he did to those who not only oppose him but also make him look weak. Death was the only end for his son, death and shame was the only way to make the people of Erebor to stop loving Thorin and start loving Thráin.

The King sneered standing closer to his son, the atmosphere around the throne room was one of pure tension, hands were on the swords and every single dwarf present in the room had its alliances and friendships determined. Bilbo watched from the shadows, his blue eyes went from the Greenstone Clan to the elves then back to Thráin and Thorin. The hobbit felt anxious, he could see the greed behind the King’s eyes, the hatred and the complete madness he had always seemed to possess; Bilbo could see Lord Drugin and his son Novar stepped forward placing their attention on Thorin’s companions rather than on Thranduil or even Legolas. Not that it would make any change, Legolas was on the floor with a nasty wound on his head, blood on his golden locks and his hands tied tightly with a strange rope. The hobbit took a deep breath taking the ring off of his finger while sneaking around the throne ready to free Thranduil; the Elven-Prince was about to gasp when Bilbo pressed a hand on his mouth opening his eyes in warning. Thranduil glared at the hobbit while Bilbo rolled his eyes kneeling down to cut the ropes. On the other side Gloin glanced at Balin with the ghost of a smile on his face, Bain lifted his eyes watching as Bilbo worked on Thranduil’s ropes. The time to stop this nonsense was approaching.

Meanwhile, King Thráin placed his left hand on the hilt of his mace standing before his son while pressing a protective hand over the Arkenstone. The King seemed to draw comfort from the strange gem while his eyes were wide open with a glint of craziness in them. The King turned around very slowly; all of his movements were confined to the restriction of his heavy clothing. Thráin was wearing a heavy set of cloaks made of the finest fur, under it he wore an armor made of gold while his crown seemed decorate with gems, gold and silver. The King was carrying a long sword on his back, a mace and an axe on his hip; there was no doubt King Thráin had dressed to impress and to rule and even in this state Thorin could see the sickness that was consuming his father in ways he never thought were possible.  The Dwarven-Prince stiffened when the King crooked a strange smile, his thumb caressing the hilt of the mace with heavy bags under his eyes and a strange paleness on his skin.

“Father, will you hear reason to let go of my betrothed and to stand by your warriors against our enemies?” Thorin questioned his eyes moving from Thranduil then back to Thráin.

“The treasure…the treasure is fine, it’s protected. The mountain, the mountain will stand strong against my enemies.” Fundin furrowed his brows turning to his Prince, Thráin started mumbling to himself his mouth turned to the gem on his right hand. “Yes, yes…everything is ready. Subjects come and go and after today there won’t be one strong enough to oppose me, I’ll make sure the Mountain stands on its feet and then…then they will love me and you…you will be the face of treason. I finally had surpassed my father and ancestors in magnifying the Kingdom of Erebor.”

“Magnifying? Are you even listening to yourself? Erebor is under attack and you…you have come forward and taken my betrothed and his brother as hostages siding with a group that almost got me kill! ” Thorin questioned confused, his father was speaking to himself and his eyes turned furious to the sudden interruption.

But Thorin was fed up, he shook his head lifting his left hand to which his companions put their weapons out ready for the second order.

“I finally have all the circumstances in my favour, Thorin.” Thráin snarled out unhooking his mace from his belt. “Finally, I’m going to have the power to be on the Throne without leaving Erebor in the hands of such a weak and incapable son.”

“Thráin! What has happened to you?” Fundin stood close to his friend, his features softening slightly trying to placate his friend. Thráin turned to him with a hint of confusion in his eyes. “This is your son, your heir we’re talking about. He has not betrayed you but I’m starting to believe this traitorous clan you have invited close to you may have betrayed you and Erebor.”

“Do not take your quarrel with us, Fundin.” Lord Drugin stated stepping forward. “I lived to serve my King. You, on the other hand, have always favoured the young Prince.”

Thráin shook his head lifting his right hand to his head, his eyes shone with strange emotions with the Arkenstone shinning close to his eyes. Suddenly the tension in the room raised, Thorin watched his father then turned to Fundin and finally to Lord Drugin.

“You have always had a soft spot for him, Fundin.” The King mumbled with the mace now trembling on his left hand, the crazed eyes of the King pierced Fundin who still had his arms lifted in a placating manner. “Drugin has shown himself a loyal subject, if it wasn’t for him I would have never dare to protect and take the right measures to protect my Kingdom…”

“Are we talking about the same clan that was put in disgrace after attempting to take over the Throne?” Thorin replied dryly ignoring the angered stare form Drugin to return his attention to his father.

“Shut up!” Thráin turned the mace to Thorin with enough strength behind his slash to harm the Dwarven-Prince; however, and having sense the violent outburst Fundin stepped forward without thinking of the consequences.

The room was put under a deathly silence when the sound of bone breaking under the pressure of heavy metal echoed in the room. Fundin had his eyes wide open while Thorin watched with horror as his father ended the life of his best and oldest friend.  Balin gasped his eyes opening in horror while he fell on his knees with the name of his father on his lips.

“Y-you…it’s your fault! Kill him!” Thráin screamed pointing an accusing finger to Thorin.

This was the sign everyone was waiting for.

Lord Novar smirked ready to cut Legolas throat but his hand was stopped by a strong grip on his wrist. Novar gasped in surprised and pain, he lifted his head to see Thranduil glaring down on him while he tightened the hold he had on the dwarf’s hand. Novar dropped the sword when he stopped feeling any control of his hand and soon a scream of pain leave his lips when his bones gave in under the pressure of the elf’s hold. Bilbo took this chance to put Legolas out of the way, Oín came in as fast as he could helping the hobbit to cut the ropes and attend to the young elf.

Thranduil face Novar and his father with cold determination behind his eyes, his hand went to the sword hanging still from his hips, his lips curling up in a dangerous smile.

“Now, I will teach you two to never mess with me or my family.” Thranduil warned and his voice sent a shiver of fear down Novar’s back while Drugin could only feel hatred.

“I’m going to enjoy having your blood gleaming on my blade, elf.” Drugin put his sword out and much like the other Dwarrows of his clan he engaged in a lost battle.

In the weeks following this incident Thorin would wonder over and over how the situation had deteriorated so fast. He would wonder why he wasn’t fast enough, or firm enough or strong enough to prevent such confusing moment; however, as he faced the anger of his father with Fundin lying on the ground dead Thorin could only think of Thranduil and how much he was hurting on his right shoulder. The wounds of battle were piercing his determination with sharp waves of pain as he tried to stop the unmerciful attacks of his father.

Thráin was an unmerciful adversary, even in his youngest years he had been one of the best fighters of the mountain with a strong hold and heavy strikes, and he had always worked the axe and the mace with expertise and precision. Thorin could barely move with his face contorted in pain while he watched with horror the sweat rolling down his father’s face, those eyes unfocused and that voice blaming him of everything that went wrong.

“All I did I did it to try and please you.” Thorin exclaimed above his father’s words, the King stopped on his attacks pursing his lips in disgust.

“All you did, you did it because you’re a sneaky rat.” Thráin spat out with venom in his voice, King and Prince were far too distracted with one another to pay any attention to the fight taking place around them.

Thráin lifted his right hand to his head, the coldness coming from the Arkenstone refreshed the King’s heated skin. Thráin’s dark eyes swept around the room before they pinned Thorin on the spot the Prince was standing in. The Prince was breathing hard with sweat rolling down his face, just like his father Thorin wasn’t looking well; however, their reasons were quite different. While Thorin was feeling the effects of his wounds, Thráin was feeling the symptoms of his own sickness. The mind of the King went from the treasure to the Arkenstone he was now trying to hold against his forehead. All Thráin could think of was of himself and the wealth awaiting for him in the protected vaults, the King lifted his eyes to see Thorin standing before him. So much like his mother, weak and sentimental, Thráin stepped forward spitting in front of Thorin.

“Why do you hate me so much, father?” Thorin finally asked lowering his gaze to the spit before his feet then back to his father.

It was a valid question, one Thorin had wanted to ask the King a long time ago. He had been honest in his words, everything he had done was out of love and a willingness to prove himself to his father. His engagement with Thranduil started out as another proof, but nothing was enough for his father.  Thráin clenched his jaw embracing the Arkenstone in a protective hug while his left hand trembled under the weight of the mace.

“You are the weak link, always sentimental.” Thráin shook his head. “You don’t even know the value of gold or the wealth we were giving at birth as heirs of Durín. You were running around like a commoner. My father never saw what I saw in you, what I still see, you are weak, a coward, you don’t deserve to be King or to even call yourself my son. I should have ended your life the moment you were born, the moment I saw your filthy mother loved you more than she loved me…”

“She never…” Thorin started but Thráin stopped him taking a step forward then another, the King advanced dangerously towards his son with the mace on his hand trembling eagerly.

“Mother loved you, she loved you so much she sacrificed everything she had, everything she had done for you and to cover what you did to the Royal vaults…” Thorin exclaimed but his words were cut short when Thráin launched another attack.

“Mine! It should be mine! The glory! The Kingdom! The Gold!!” Thráin screamed while attacking his son, every thrust and every strike was stronger than the other Thorin could only stepped back and evaded most of the attacks favouring his left side while trying to keep his sword firmly in grasp.

However, and even if Thorin was trying to match the erratic yet powerful strikes from his father the Prince knew he had never been a match against his father’s strength. Thráin smirked while mumbling softly to himself the Arkenstone gleaming teasingly at the King while Thráin aimed for his son’s head. Thorin had enough time to stop the attack but the strength with which Thráin let the mace fall made Thorin’s blade tremble and the waves moved up his arm waking in him a sharp pain originating from the wound on his shoulder. The pain became unbearable and Thorin couldn’t help but drop his sword, Thráin grinned with malice, he stepped forward staggering slightly while lifting his right hand to his head.

“You…you shouldn’t have been born! Always the love one, the favourite one…” Thráin kept on speaking while Thorin lifted his good arm to grasp the hilt of his axe.

“I’m going to correct my mistake, yes…and then…then the elf is going to be mine and I will be King forever and everyone will bow to me…”

Thorin was not fast enough this time around and soon he was on the floor grunting in pain while his right hand went directly to his chest. He could swear he heard a couple of ribs broke with the contact of the mace against his chest, he cursed the moment he decided for a light armour instead of a heavy one. Thráin approached his son his eyes gleaming in victory lifting the hand holding the mace, Thorin swallowed. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t know of the King’s animosity against him, Thorin knew his father had never hold any love for him but right now he was facing a father ready to kill his son. It hurt, it hurt Thorin in ways he never thought possible.

Thorin tried to speak only for a scream to leave his lips while he fell on his back all over again. The Dwarven-Prince closed his eyes tightly breathing heavily, he grunted when pain shot all through his left side when another foot made contact with his broken ribs.

“Stay down!” His father had come back to him and was making sure he would not stand up.

Thorin dared to open his eyes only to see Thráin looking down on him, the lips of the King were turned to the left in a strange maniac grimace. Thorin clenched his teeth while his hand sought the sword on the floor, his fingertips brushed against the cold hilt and he stayed still for a moment waiting to see what his father would do. Thráin tilted his head placing his foot on Thorin’s chest, he started applying pressure enjoying the pain reflecting on his son’s eyes. 

For a moment pain was the only thing Thorin could feel, he felt his body numb with electric shocks traveling up and down every single one of his nerves. It was difficult to think clearly, it was pretty difficult to try and make sense of the situation yet he was seeing a white, comforting light approaching in the deepest part of his memory. It was enough to give him clarity, to spread warm and comfort all through his body. Thorin opened his eyes watching at the ceiling of the Throne room becoming aware of the origin of this new sensation.

“What are you smiling at, boy? Do you need more pain before I take your life?” Thráin tried to hit his son again but Thorin, with great difficulty, stopped his father’s foot with his good hand.

The King opened his eyes surprised when his son pushed him strongly making him stepped backwards to prevent any falling. The King snarled enraged and the Dwarven-Prince stared at his father, his eyes went from the King’s face to the stone he was still holding with protectiveness. Thorin felt a wave of reassurance again, with great effort he turned slightly and soon his left foot made contact with his father’s right arm.

King Thráin exclaimed in distress when the Arkenstone jumped out of his grasp flying to the other side of the room.  Soon the King forgot all about his son running towards the stone, one of the dwarves belonging to the Greenstone Clan tried to pick it up but he was soon stopped by a heavy hit on his head, the dwarf fell to the floor with a crushed skull and the King dropping his weapon to kneel down and grab the stone.

Thorin took this chance to recover, he lifted his eyes to see Balin kneeling beside his father’s body. Gloin, Nori and Bifur were engaged in a heated fight with some of the members of the Greenstone Clan that had been standing guard in the Throne Room; the Dwarven-Prince turned his eyes to the throne were he could see Thranduil gleaming majestically with his sword gleaming dangerously. To the elf’s side was Bilbo whose elvish blade was also engaged in a heavy fight with Novar and Drugin Greenstone. Thorin turned to see Oín attending to Legolas while pushing the young elf to the floor whenever he tried to go and help his father.

The Dwarven-Prince turned his eyes to see his father kneeling down while caressing the stone on his hand, Thorin stood up slowly wincing slightly while holding his wounded side. He tried to lift his hand to grab his axe but the movement made him feel pain so he desisted. He lifted his eyes to see Thranduil turning anxiously towards him, this moment of distraction cost the elf a kick on his leg.

“Thranduil!” Thorin stepped forward locating his sword on the floor he went to the weapon while looking over at the elf.

Thorin felt torn when his eyes went back to his father who was still kneeling down caressing the gem on his hand. The Prince felt helpless before the fighting happening before his eyes, knowing there was a battle being fought outside the walls of the mountain and with a King who was obviously not fit to still hold the Throne. The Dwarven-Prince wished, not for the first time, things had been simpler but things were what they were and Thorin knew what he needed to do. With one last, lingering gaze to Thranduil Thorin turned around making his way to the King ready to finish this once and for all.

*****

Thranduil could count with his fingers how many times he had feared for his life and the lives of those he loved. The bitter memory of those he lost during the times of war and peace was always present on his mind, the feeling of hopelessness was something one cold never forget easily.

The moment Bilbo had let go of the bonds on his hands and legs Thranduil had made sure to hit the dwarf holding Legolas down. Bilbo had never seen an elf fighting, the times in which elves get involve in the battles of the mortals had long pass and now they dedicated their time to peace, music and tales. However, watching the gracefulness with which Thranduil danced alongside his sword with deathly slashes Bilbo understood why they were such dangerous opponents. An even with his great ability, both heads of the Greenstone Clan matched the elf’s attacks with equal strength and resistance. The hobbit watched as Drugin tricked Thranduil into attacking him while his son came from behind, with a furious expression on his face Bilbo went forward with Sting cutting through the skin of the dwarf’s hand.

Bilbo opened his eyes in shock while Novar turned to him equally surprised, the hobbit stared at the blood coming from the dwarf’s hand then at his own blade. However, he didn’t have enough time to think about what he had done for Novar soon focused his rage on the hobbit. Without a doubt, this was the first time in the history of Erebor that something like this took place in the Throne room. A fight between a fallen clan and a fallen King against the loyal friends, two royal elves and the Dwarven-Prince of Erebor would be a story many would hear in years to come, it would become one of the stories of triumph of the House of Durín against the enemies of the Lonely Mountain. However, at the moment everyone was just trying to finish this as soon as possible to get to the real fight; Thranduil closed himself off to anything that wasn’t Drugin Greenstone, the dwarf was a great warrior always using his strength and muscles against the speed of the elf. 

“You will not win, elf.” Lord Drugin spoke with coldness in his voice, his eyes glaring at the elf in front of him. “You will be submitted to be the King’s whore until he gets from you whatever sick fantasy he has. But you and that wretched Prince Thorin will only live long enough to see the beginning of a new Erebor…”

“You really believe King Thráin is going to let you live?” Thranduil smirked and straightened up with _Aranrúth_ gleaming anxiously at his side. “You are a traitor and, as such, only a tool for the King to obtain what he wants. You will be casted aside the same way your pathetic clan have been discarded before.”

Drugin snarled launching another attack, his hands went directly to the hilt of his weapon to increase the force behind his strike. Thranduil held his smirk in place even if he was completely concern with the sudden coldness and the strange pain he started feeling on his shoulder and his chest. Thranduil turned to see Thorin on the floor facing his father who was kicking him without any mercy, the Elven-Prince growled ready to go over and help Thorin when Drugin made sure he didn’t forget about him.

“Thranduil!”

The Elven-Prince lifted his face narrowing his eyes he twirled the hilt of _Aranrúth_ while sliding his right foot forward, the hand holding the elven blade switched slightly to the left an Thranduil focused his strength behind the strike. Drugin parried the attack and try to kick the elf again, but Thranduil had enough of the fight, his instincts were screaming at him asking for this to be over.

“You should have never put me or Legolas in danger, dwarf.” Thranduil spoke softly, his voice was carried above the sound of the fight in the room and Drugin felt the weight of the anger and the hatred coming from the elf.

Drugin made a face spitting down, “You should have stayed on the floor, like the bitch whore you are.”

The sound of metal hitting metal resounded in the ears of the elf while the anguish he started feeling for Thorin grew in his heart. As he fought with the experience he had acquired in his long years, Thranduil could not help but remember the words his father had pronounced in Dale. Thráin had just demonstrated he was not only incapable of governing but also he was in a deep state of insanity; he had not only killed his best friend he was also trying to kill his only heir while threatening Thranduil with a vile act of cowardice just to obtain by force what could only be given out of love. Thranduil knew Thráin would not be stopped unless he was killed, dragon sickness didn’t forget nor forgive those who fell in its clutches. Nevertheless, the Elven-Prince also knew Thorin would not be capable or even in the right condition to face and kill his father; Thranduil felt the weight of his responsibilities wearing him down.

Thranduil parried another attack coming from Drugin, his left foot advancing, his hand drawing an arch in the air while he leaned forward. Drugin stepped back his hand falling alongside his weapon to stop the slash coming from the elvish blade, Thranduil turned around striking again then lifted his right hand and his fist collided with the face of the dwarf. Drugin staggered backwards and he soon found his life being taken by a blade coming out of his abdomen, the old leader of the Greenstone Clan opened his eyes in surprised watching as Thranduil stared down on him with coldness.

Balin had tears still rolling down his cheeks, but his face was a mask of pure seriousness and anger his sword came from the now falling body of Drugin dripping blood. The eyes of the dwarf crossed with those of Thranduil, the Elven-Prince felt sympathy for him he bowed his head grateful for the help. Balin tried to smile nodding briefly before pointing to Thorin who was standing before a kneeling Thráin.

“Go to him, I…I’ll help Bilbo.” Balin walked slowly until he was right beside Thranduil. “You know what must be done, don’t you? You heard him before Thorin came in, you know…”

“I do.” Thranduil replied seriously, Balin glanced at the elf nodding briefly before making his way towards Bilbo.

*****

The sound of the fighting in the room was diminishing with every footstep Thorin took to get closer to his father. The Dwarven-Prince looked down at his hand holding the sword, he furrowed his brows watching as his hand trembled a little. Thorin felt tired, the pain and blood lost was making him dizzy and weak.

Thráin was kneeling down caressing the Arkenstone while mumbling in Khuzdûl and the common tongue from time to time. The King was finally to absorb by his own world to actually be aware of his surrounding, at least this was what it looked like to Thorin. Thorin stood beside his father, the shadow of his body looking bigger on the ground covering the kneeling King.

“It’s over, father. Let us not fight anymore.” Thorin spoke slowly, tiredly.

The King tensed looking out of the corner of his eyes to the feet of his son, his hands busy caressing the Arkenstone. Thráin glanced down to his left hand, his lips curling up slightly as he dropped his hand to his boot feeling around for the dagger he had placed there early in the day.

“Father? Won’t you try and stop this nonsense? Won’t you try and speak to me about this?” Thorin tried again, he approached the King with wariness but also with a hint of hopefulness in his mind. “Father?”

Thorin felt a comforting hand on his good shoulder, he couldn’t stop the forming smile on his lips when he turned around and saw Thranduil standing beside him. The Elven-Prince wasn’t looking happy though, those blue eyes went to the King who was still mumbling nonsense.

“It is useless, Thorin, your father is no longer there.” Thranduil spoke softly glancing down to the Dwarven-Prince.

Thorin furrowed his brows shaking his head, “He must be.”

Thranduil softened slightly lifting his hand to brush away a few strands of wet hair from the face of his lover. He could see the wariness and the tiredness behind Thorin’s dark eyes; the elf shook his head returning his attention to Thráin who, apparently, was not paying them any attention.

“We need to go back to the gates, but when we do Thorin you will be King.” Thranduil stated firmly. Thorin tensed frowning deeply, the King clenched his jaw grabbing the dagger tightly.

“I…no, I’m not…” Thorin shook his head trying to get away from Thranduil’s grasp but the elf had a firm hold on him. “I cannot be King yet, Father…”

“It’s no longer fit for the throne, Thorin. You know it. You have seen it.” Thranduil continued with the same tone of voice, Thorin swallowed glancing at his father who was on the ground focusing his attention on the gem.

“He will recover.” Thorin finally said. “I’ll act today as an acting King, but father will be King once this is all over.”

“I don’t need the pity of a traitorous bastard as yourself.” Thráin snarled tilting his head to stare at his son. Thorin dropped his eyes before lifting them again, this time around there was determination gleaming in those dark orbs.

“It’s not pity.”

“I don’t need you patronizing me either, you were waiting for this…you…and your friends and everyone…everyone is against me…” Thráin shook his head. “I won’t let you, not while I’m still alive.”

The King turned around rather fast with his left arm stretching slowly until the dagger he had on his hand found a different mark. Thorin opened his eyes in horror as he realized the dagger had been aimed to Thranduil but it found home on Thorin’s abdomen. Everything happened way too fast for anyone to stop it or to even make an exclamation about it, Thranduil had not even thought about it, he merely put _Aranrúth_ forward until it slide inside the King’s chest. Thráin made a face with blood coming out of his mouth, the King lowered his eyes before these closed on their own the Arkenstone fell from his hands and he soon followed it with a heavy thud on the ground.

Thranduil dropped his sword and caught Thorin just on time before the Dwarven-Prince fell to the ground, the elf’s lips quivered slightly as he saw the state Thorin was in. Thorin blinked a couple of times furrowing his brows before turning his attention to Thranduil.

“You’re going to be fine.” Thranduil spoke softly placing Thorin on the ground.

“I…I don’t know…” Thorin mumbled softly.

“Nonsense, this isn’t such a big wound.” Oín came in rushing through the now quiet room. “I’ve seen you in worst condition, Thorin. Now stop maiking such a big deal out of this and help me out.”

“You only speak this much when the wound is really bad.” Thorin made the comment with a half-smile, Thranduil glared at Oín then at Thorin.

Balin and the others came in as Oín started working on the wound on Thorin’s abdomen, Gloin approached Thráin alongside Legolas, and the King was now on the ground resting with a peaceful expression on his face. Gloin turned to Legolas before kneeling down, he hesitated for a moment before taking the crown off of the King’s head. He looked at it with a face before cleaning it up a little bit. For a brief moment, Gloin observed the peaceful frame of the King, his eyes fell to the bleeding wound on his chest then to the Arkenstone the King was still clutching tightly with his right hand.

“The King is dead.” Legolas stated behind him, his eyes were still cold while his right hand was brushing the cuts on his left wrist. Gloin lifted his eyes to Legolas nodding.

“Long live the King.” Gloin commented standing up while making his way towards Thorin.

*****

“Where the hell is Thorin?!” Dáin came riding on his goat with his long hammer firmly on his grasp. He dismounted the goat staring at Dwalin who was dispatching some messengers to the different fronts of the fight.

Dwalin shook his head lifting his eyes to the Mountain, “He is in there some of those bastards of the Greenstone Clan came in. They took Prince Thranduil and Prince Legolas.”

“Damn it!” Dáin looked around noticing the tent with the banner of the Woodland Realm and the Kingdom of Dale a few meters away. “What are they doing? What are we doing?”

“Planning, they’re discussing the next step along with Gandalf who just got here.” Dwalin shrugged. “I have set the traps already, Bombur is leading the group attacking the cave of the left and Bofur is leading the ones making their way to the right. This was Thorin’s last order, to seal off those caves.”

“Good because this bastards are coming like ants from the earth.” Dáin lowered his hammer turning his attention back to the mountain. “How was Thorin?”

“He was worried. I am worried.” Dwalin replied looking over at Dáin then back to the strange elven army dispatching orcs and wargs and every single enemy that came before them. “Who are they?”

Dáin tilted his head to the Avari, his lips curled slightly.

“They are the Avari of Dorwinion. Thorin and Thranduil must have done quite the impression to bring those pointy ears all the way to this part of the world.” Dáin shook his head scratching his chin. “This is a good thing, you lot look as if you need the help.”

Dwalin lowered his gaze to his axe, Dáin stood beside him watching as the improvised camp buzz with great activity. Wherever Dáin turned his attention he could see elves, dwarves and men running around screaming orders or asking for help. The gates of Erebor had been protected and most of the front valley of the mountain was in the three armies power, however the orcs were still quite active coming from the caves the worms had dug on the earth. If that wasn’t enough, Ravenhill was still holding the banner of Dol-Guldur and Azog the defiler as a defiance to the power of the Dwarrows and their allies. Dáin had realized the battle would not be over until Azog had fallen.

“We need Thorin.” Dáin finally said. “How long since he was gone?”

“A couple of hours, I guess.” Dwalin lifted his stare to see the eagles engaging themselves in a heated fight against some black bats.

Dáin turned his attention back to the mountain, the Lord of the Iron Hills narrowed his eyes while he felt new energy surging through him. His lips curled up and he let out a great scream of triumph, Dwalin turned to Dáin then his eyes went to the gates. Thorin came out of the gates with Thranduil by his side, soon the rest of the company along with Legolas joined them.

“There’s that bastard.” Dáin exclaimed shaking his head. “I swear to you if he stop to make puppy eyes to that elf, I…”

“He is hurt.” Dwalin interrupted furrowing his brows.

“Well, then, let’s go!” Dáin didn’t even wait for an answer, he grabbed his goat and mounting in one jump rode towards Thorin.

“Torglar!” The Captain approached Dwalin furrowing his brows.

“Yes, Lord Dwalin?”

“Get everything ready, Prince Thorin and Prince Thranduil are here.” Dwalin then grabbed his own goat and went to join Dáin.

Torglar  nodded shouting orders to his dwarves getting not only Stardust ready but Thranduil’s and even Legolas’ horse ready.

Thorin let his eyes take in the scene before him, he could see the battle was still happening before his eyes with elves, Dwarrows and men all fighting for the protection of the Valley and the mountain. Thorin could see the Avari had taken over the left flank while the men of Dale and the elves of Mirkwood were focusing their energy on the right side. The eagles were flying above their heads finishing of the black bats and battling the wargs on earth. All around them was a battle being won little by little by the alliance of the three races; nevertheless Thorin felt something unpleasant embracing his heart when he turned to Ravenhill only to see the symbol of Dol-Guldur and Azog still intact swirling around with the wind and the scent of war.

Thorin lowered his gaze to see the bandages were getting red with his blood, he softened his features when the weight of a familiar hand rested upon his shoulder. He tilted his head to look over too Thranduil, the Elven-Prince wore an expressionless face but Thorin could read many emotions behind those blue eyes.

“I’m going to be fine.” Thorin mumbled not for the first time, ever since they had come over to assist him Thorin had been trying to assure everyone he was fine.

Even after Balin had proclaimed him King Under the Mountain and he had seen the dead body of his father, Thorin had been asked if he was doing fine. The Dwarven-Prince could not answer with complete honesty, but he couldn’t lie to his friend and to Thranduil either. So he opted for the easy way, he was feeling better now that the dizziness was gone and he wasn’t feeling so much pain. The pain and the uncertainty he felt in his heart and soul was another topic, but something he would not discuss in the middle of a war. Thorin watched the crown on Thranduil’s hand but he shook his head, he wasn’t ready to wear the crown. Not yet.

“Legolas, Bilbo, I think you can go now.” Thorin spoke firmly turning his attention to Bilbo and Legolas, both of them nodded sharing a small smile before leaving.

Legolas let his gaze linger on his father for a second before he went in the same direction Bilbo had ran off to. Thorin then faced the battlefield with his right hand grasping the hilt of his sword tightly, he felt a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder something that made him smile.

“So, you think you’re fit to keep fighting?” Thorin questioned glancing over at Thranduil.

“Are you seriously asking _me_ this?” Thranduil dropped his hand shooting a quick glare to the wound on Thorin’s abdomen.

Thorin stretched his hand grabbing the crown Thranduil was still holding, the young Prince watched what his father had done to the former crown of the Kings of Erebor. It now felt dirty, as if it had been tainted by whatever darkness was consuming King Thráin and Thorin had nothing to do with this. The Dwarven-Prince then turned to his friends and his eyes fell upon the form of the still mourning Balin. Everyone was silent for a long moment, Thorin then threw the crown to Balin who grabbed it with a single hand.

“I just want to protect Erebor. All of you know this, father…” Thorin trailed off before continuing. “What happen today was something that must never be allowed to happen ever again.”

Balin put the crown away shooting Thorin a half-smile, Thorin returned the gesture before facing the valley. The sound of fighting kept on filling their ears and all of them remembered hours ago this very same gate had been filled with fighters trying to protect the entrance, the battle kept on advancing towards the enemy but there was still so much to do. Thorin felt the weight of his new position on his shoulders, he knew even if he thought he was not ready to be King he already was one. His companions had made this clear.

“We will protect Erebor, Prince Thorin.” Balin finally spoke, his voice wasn’t showing the grief he was feeling but the determination that had grown inside of him. “We’re the dwarves of Erebor. Let’s go and take that enemy banner from our home.”

“Now, you’re guys are talking! This conversation was turning into something too gloomy for my tastes.” Nori commented pointing with his chin to the approaching goats. “Here comes Lord Dáin and Dwalin.”

Thorin watched as they approached with one of the dwarven soldiers coming as well with Stardust, war-goats and with Thranduil’s elk following them, imposing and arrogant while ignoring the rest of the mounts beside him.

“I won’t let you out of my sight during this.” Thranduil stated glancing at Thorin.

“I surely hope you know it is me the one who is not going to allow you to go around without me.” Thorin replied looking at Thranduil. “I don’t want King Bard getting any weird ideas.”

Thranduil smirked his fingers dancing up to Thorin’s neck, the elven fingers brushed the heated skin of the dwarf.

“You worried without necessity.” Thranduil leaned in with a growing need to be close to Thorin. “But, it is not jealousy what keeps me close to you but my growing sense of protectiveness since you seem to be too stubborn to take care of your injuries.”

“This is nothing.” Thorin replied lifting his face so he could be closer to Thranduil, the Elven-Prince furrowed his brows.

“Those wounds are everything, Thorin. I could not wear the thought of losing you.” Thranduil commented lowering his voice. “Do not let me go through that, not again.”

Thorin brought Thranduil to him until their lips crashed into a heated kiss, everyone around them looked away rather uncomfortable. Dáin was rolling his eyes shaking his head while he approached the gates.

“You two stop this instant! Important things are happening for you to go around and suck each other’s tongues.” Dáin exclaimed but he winked at Thranduil who merely made a face.

Thorin made his way towards Dáin slowly but surely, the Lord of the Iron Hills glanced at his cousin with concern.

“You really are injured. What happened? Where is uncle? Why isn’t he here?” Dáin realized then his questions brought a strange tension amongst the present. He frowned turning to Thorin who was looking at him with a solemn stare in his eyes.

“The King died.” Thorin said slowly.

Dáin opened his eyes in shock understanding there was more to this declaration, Dwalin turned to his brother and then back to Thorin.

“Where is father?” Dwalin inquired, Balin shook his head swallowing but it was Thorin the one who answered first.

“Lord Fundin…your father, he died as well.” Thorin swallowed looking over at his friend. “I’m sorry.”

Dwalin was looking affronted, he lifted his eyes to see his brother was looking back at him. However, no one said nothing the moment was filled with a strange silence until a great explosion was heard and felt. The earth trembled and many had to cover their ears when the sound of the explosion resounded in the valley accompanied by the screams of different creatures and the cheers of some of the Dwarrows. Everyone turned to the cloud of dust coming from the left flank, many Dwarrows were lifting their weapons while the Avari were being organized with the long bows, soon the sky was filled with dark clouds of arrows being shoot over and over again and the land was covered with the bodies of the escaping orcs. The battle had been won on the left flank and now they only had left the right flank and Ravenhill.

“Bombur did it!” Dáin exclaimed, he then turned his attention to Thorin. “Now, what are we going to do?”

No sooner had Dáin asked this when the deep, melodious sound of horns filled the valley with a strong tune that made the orcs tremble in fear and the hearts of the Dwarrows beat with reassurance.

Thorin lifted his face to the two towers carved at the gates of Erebor, he smiled before returning his attention to the Valley and then to Dáin.

“Now Dáin, now we fight and we recover Ravenhill.” Thorin made his way to Stardust with some difficulty he arranged himself on his mount while Thranduil sat on his elk. The attention of the Valley had been caught by the sound of the horns, horns that sound at least five times before their melody died down echoing in the valley.

Thorin lifted his sword turning Stardust in the direction of Ravenhill, “For Erebor!”

*****

Ravenhill was on fire.

There was no other description for the state the citadel was in, Thorin swallowed while his eyes went from one dead dwarf to the other. His people had been fighting these creatures all alone while everyone was too preoccupied with what was happening inside the mountain, no one had come to their rescue and now many of them were just gone. Thorin narrowed his eyes with anger, the sword on is hand trembling and begging for blood.

Thranduil had never imagine this part of the mountain would look like this, there was nothing on sight but the dead bodies of dwarves and orcs, the sight of flames and ashes and destroyed edification. Still, Thranduil could sense they weren’t alone, the sound of fighting filled his ears and the Elven-Prince knew something was happening around them. Dwalin stood beside him pointing with his head to an arched door ahead of them.

“This one leads to a set of halls leading to another yard, Ravenhill was built as a citadel with several tunnels and halls leading to different yards.” Dwalin explained lowly. “This one leads to the yard facing the waterfalls.”

“And, it’s the way to where the bastard put the accursed banner.” Replied Gloin.

Thranduil furrowed his brows stepping forward, Thorin followed him clenching his left fist while holding onto the sudden pain awakening on his shoulder and abdomen. He thought he was fast in hiding his pain but Thranduil soon was right beside him placing a soothing hand on his shoulder, the Dwarven-Prince shrugged away the offering not turning to see the hurt stare crossing the elves face.

“If I’m not wrong, Captain Glorfindel, Captain Farin and many others are up here.” Thorin commented in a low voice. “I want everyone ready and alert, our mission is to bring down the banner from the tower. Kill everything that comes in our way.”

Thorin stepped inside the first tunnel, inside there was only darkness but the clear sound of metal clashing against metal could be heard. The Dwarven-Prince turned around nodding to the rest of his companions, Nori made a gesture with his hand and entered the second tunnel with Dori, Oín and Bifur following close behind. Thorin turned to see Dwalin, Balin, Dáin, Bilbo, Legolas and Thranduil with him; the Dwarven-Prince stepped forward but was pushed softly by a fast hobbit.

“You are too loud to go first, let me do this part.” Bilbo explained moving inside with Sting as his source of light.

There was nothing but darkness for more than a few minutes, but the sound of metal grew as they approached a turn to the right. By then they could see the flickering of an orange light, they were trying to be quieted with Bilbo strolling faster down the hall. Once the hobbit had reached to the turn he pressed his back to the wall leaning in to stare down the hall. Everyone stopped waiting for some kind of signal, Bilbo shrugged prompting them to walk faster. Once they had turn to the right Thranduil would see the light was coming from a single torch on the wall, the current of air was cold in this part making the flames of the torch dance in the darkness. They continued their march, this time around faster than before with their weapons at the ready.

Thorin bit the inside of his cheek while he allowed himself a moment of weakness, his left hand went to the wound on his abdomen pressing lightly on it to stop the sharp pain coming from the wound. He knew Thranduil could sense what was happening, but he could also feel the upsetting emotion coming from the elf; his early brushed off of the elf was bothering Thranduil greatly to the point he was trying to ignore Thorin. The Dwarven-Prince tilted his head to stare at the elf above his shoulder believing Thranduil would be looking away but the elf had his eyes on him. Thorin smiled softly shaking his head but this time around Thranduil did look away.

“We’re getting close.” Dwalin interrupted the moment nodding ahead to the clear light coming from the entrance of the tunnel.

And, as they got close to the entrance the sound of voices and muffled screams could finally be heard. A battle was taking place just outside this tunnel and everyone was getting ready for whatever was behind this walls.

Legolas entered the battlefield as if he had been born for this. His hands move swiftly to his back putting his bow and his arrows at the ready while he found its mark on several of the orcs fighting around the yard. Many who had been facing a dwarf fell without understanding why or how they had been defeated. The young elf shoot another arrow, his feet dancing around the battlefield finding different surfaces to hold his weight while he evaded several of his attackers before piercing their necks, chest or eyes.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Dáin asked Legolas arching a brow at the young elf who shot the last of his arrows.

“I cannot say this is not satisfying.” Legolas replied which earned him a heavy laugh from the dwarf.

Dáin made a quick turn over with his hammer leading the direction of his twirl, the heavy weapon soon found its mark by crushing the skull of one of its enemies. Legolas made a face shaking his head while putting _Ithilmegil_ out of its sheath. The cold blade gleamed hungrily showing off the sharp edge and the elvish metal.  Dáin caressed his beard while his eyes followed the different warriors making a stance against their enemies; for the state everything in the citadel was in Dáin could tell the first wave of the battle had been deathly for the children of the mountain. Many fallen warriors were still on the ground where dwarves and elves fought with passion against the orcs. The Lord of the Iron Hills lifted his eyes only for him to notice the ashen expression on the young elf; Dáin knew even for elven years Legolas was young, it didn’t take long to the dwarf to realize this was the first time Legolas faced battle.

“The way I see it we can stay here and keep on watching or we can join in.” Dáin nodded towards the battle getting his hammer ready. “Are you ready to fight, Pointy-eared Prince?”

Legolas left eyebrow twitched in annoyance, the young elf lifted his sword nodding curtly, “Let’s see what you can do, _dwarf._ ”

Dáin snorted turning around and running straight into the action with Legolas following him close behind.

*****

“Glorfindel!” Thranduil ran towards the Captain of his guard, the blond elf straightened up cleaning up his blade while his eyes gleamed with a dangerous light Thorin was not familiar with.

“My Prince, nice of you to join us in the fight.” Glorfindel commented giving the elf a half-smile. “You are looking good, unfortunately I cannot say the same of you, Prince Thorin.”

Glorfindel let his eyes a quick examination of the Dwarven-Prince in front of him, it was obvious there were several wounds on the dwarf and these wounds had taken a lot out of him. Still, Glorfindel could see the stubbornness and determination behind the dark eyes of the Prince, he was not going to give in so easily. The Captain of the Elven guard smiled as he turned his attention to Thranduil who could not take his eyes off of Thorin, the concern was evident on the elven features of Thranduil.

“Why have you come here?” Glorfindel finally asked, this part of the citadel had already been claimed and was being protected with bravery, elves and dwarves had been collaborating putting the bodies of the fallen warriors aside while piling up the bodies of the dark creatures ready to be burn.

“That banner must be taken down.” Thorin commented pointing at the tall tower crossing the bridge of the waterfall.

Glorfindel nodded without needing to turn to see the tower, he had seen it as soon as he had joined the battle in this part of the Valley. He had seen as the paled orc stood above the tower lifting his arms in victory, screaming into the valley to provoke the dwarves and Thorin. He had erected the dark banner claiming this lands as the conquered lands of Dol-Guldur and Gundabad.

“You are not thinking of going alone, are you?” Glorfindel finally questioned both Princes.

“He is too stubborn to hear reason.” Thranduil commented dryly. “Thinks himself strong enough to face an enemy twice his height and twice his strength.”

Thorin rolled his eyes, for Glorfindel it was obvious this wasn’t the first time this discussion had been had.

“Someone has to protect Erebor, someone has to teach this bastard Erebor won’t stand for him to claim these lands.” Thorin replied crossing his arms while trying to conceal the pain from his face.

“You cannot sacrifice yourself foolishly, Thorin.” Thranduil said curtly placing his hand on the dwarf’s shoulder. “Not now.”

Thorin tensed without daring to turn his eyes to Thranduil, he was already feeling weak and ready to give in the supplicant tone of the elf. The air felt cold in this part of the mountain, the air smell of dead and destruction; Thorin could not tear his eyes away from the tower aware of Thranduil trying to reach him in every way he could.

“Then, what do you propose I should do?” Thorin finally questioned, Thranduil lifted his blue eyes to Glorfindel who was staring at him with cold resolution. There was only one way this could go and Glorfindel could read it clearly in Thranduil’s eyes.

It was disconcerting the eerie silence surrounding the tower, Thorin knew they weren’t alone in this part of the citadel. He could tell something was watching their every move, his hand tightened around the hilt of his sword as the sounds of the war diminished with every footstep they gave to reach the top of the tower. The sudden sound of a great explosion halted their jogging, Thorin turned around but was incapable to see what had happened. However, he didn’t need to look out to know Bofur had sealed of the second cave.

“The second cave had been closed.” Thranduil commented.

“Yes, now they only thing left is the bastard of Azog.” Thorin said softly, stepping forward. “Let’s go.”

For some reason, Thorin expected to find something completely different at what he was facing at the moment. He thought Azog would be waiting for him in this place, with his left hand missing replaced a makeshift hook and his right hand holding an orc-ish blade. Thorin imagine at least ten or more orcs protecting the pale orc and the great structure holding the enemy banners shadowing the terrain threateningly towards them. However, the sight before was completely different.

There were orcs, of course. At least ten of them, all of them big, ugly and carrying heavy armours and weapons. But Azog was not at the front of this group of orcs, it was his spawn Bolg the one smirking maliciously at them caressing the edge of his sword while looking mockingly at the dwarf. Thorin soon noticed nothing could be heard or even felt in this place, the wind appeared to have gone to other places while the shadows of the growing afternoon started covering the land. The Dwarven-Prince took a deep breath, hearing as his lungs filled with air and soon let it escape in slow motion. The wound on his abdomen, the one of his shoulder, his broken ribs all of the wounds he had suffered in battle were starting to affect him all over again, telling him the effects of the medicine Oín had given to him had no more effect on him.

Glorfindel was looking at these creatures with disgust an anger, the mind of an elf didn’t forget quite easily all they had suffered through the centuries at the hands of these creatures. The sword on his hand was shivering in anticipation, the Captain of the Elven guard was anxiously waiting for the moment the inevitable confrontation was going to take place. Thranduil for his part was already counting how many of these orcs were in front of him, how armed they were and who was the most dangerous of them all. It didn’t take him to long to guess it was the big one, Bolg, the one who represented a real threat to them. His blue eyes went lifeless, sharp and dangerous as he tried to think of ways to engage in battle against this war to stop Thorin for facing someone in better condition than him.

An arrow flew past them whistling as it broke the wind and found its mark on the eye of one of the orcs. The orc didn’t even flinch, he didn’t even react completely except to fall heavily on the ground with a dry thump.  Thorin opened his eyes in shocked turning around to see Legolas lowering his bow, hiss face a mask of pure concentration and Dáin shaking his head behind him.

There wasn’t much that could be said for this single act started the battle.

There wasn’t much Thranduil could do against the stubbornness of Thorin, nevertheless he made a mental note to make the dwarf suffer at a later date for making him worry as he engaged in battle against Bolg. Thranduil had been taken by two of the other heavily armed orcs; Legolas had not hesitated to follow Thorin in his fight, the young elf had taken _Ithilmegil_ to parry one of the attacks coming from the orc while Thorin wielded the sword on his hand with force, he turned his right hand slightly to give the sharp blade of his weapon the right angle to cut through the skin of Bolg. Bolg screamed out lifting his arm to strike Legolas on his face and kick Thorin straight on his abdomen, the Dwarven-Prince couldn’t help the scream of pain escaping his lips as he fell trembling to the ground.

“Thorin!” Legolas exclaimed coming closer with blood coming from his lip, the young elf stepped forward twirling around to evade another punch while his sword was lift in a fast strike.

Bolg grunted feeling as the muscles of his arm were cut beyond any usefulness, the orc lifted his sword until sparks came from the elven blade and its own. Legolas clenched his jaw holding against the pressure of the attack, Thorin turned slightly holding onto his abdomen while ignoring the pain coming from his ribs. The Dwarven-Prince took choking breaths trying to incorporate while seeking with his hand his sword, he stood on shaky legs stepping forward his eyes fell upon the form of Bolg who was hitting Legolas on his face while the young Elven-Prince tried to fight back. Thorin clenched his jaw approaching Bolg with his arm lifted, the blade of his sword fell upon the back of the orc taking from him a painful screaming. Legolas opened his eyes lifting his own sword and in one swift twirl he made sure the blade found the tender skin of the orcs neck.

Dáin twirled his hammer around, his feet circling around on the ground until the heavy head of the hammer found the armour of its opponent. Some of the orcs yelled in pain, some others didn’t even have to time to fight or to vocalize their suffering. Glorfindel was by the side of the dwarf, his sword didn’t miss any mark under the heavy armours of his enemies, and the Captain was showing these orcs why he had survived the ages of the world. Thranduil stepped forward allowing his sword to go through the chest of the last of his enemies, he turned sharply taking _Aranrúth_ off of the body while running towards Legolas.

“Ada!” Legolas exclaimed finding comfort in the arms of his father.

Thorin lifted his eyes to see Thranduil embracing his son while whispering in elvish comforting words, Legolas smiled softly wrapping his arms around his father. The blue eyes of the young elf found those dark ones of Thorin, the dwarf gave him a small smile. Dizziness took him over, Thorin tried to hold himself standing but the adventures of the day had finally taken its toll on him. The Last thing Thorin heard was someone calling his name, then the Dwarven-Prince knew no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I want to thank you all for the patience. I know the wait was a long one. I'm not completely happy with this chapter, and I have to be honest I rewrite it like seven times so you're opinion about it would be greatly appreciate. Second of all, thank you, thank you for the comments, the kudos and for your support, it means so much to me!
> 
> The story is getting near to the end, next chapter somethings will be explained, things like Thorin's mother and her relationship with Thráin, and Thorin and Thranduil start sharing some sweet moments before Thorin's coronation day.


	21. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war is over and Thorin must now face the new responsibilities of his birth right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Thank you guys for keeping with me and for reading the story, I really don't know what would I do without any of you. I have to say, this chapter end up being longer than I thought so I have to divide it in two parts. I hope you like and, as always, I apologize for any grammar, spelling or funny mistake you may find in here.
> 
> Sigin akyul id-Uzbad: Long live the King, a rough translation I did with the new-khuzdul dictionary

**Chapter 21**

**Recovery**

There was no light inside the tent.

The wind was blowing outside creating a strange sound in the silent valley; there was also an unsettling quietness around him as if the world had ceased to exist. He opened his eyes while his body awoke with him, the pain of his wounds came as soon as consciousness claimed him but this sensation was soon soothed by the closeness of his lover. Thorin blinked a couple of times to get use to the darkness, he shifted on the bed trying to move and incorporate himself but he was still weak and there wasn’t much he could do without help. The Dwarven-Prince turned his head to the left and his eyes soon fell upon a shadowy figure standing away from him, he didn’t need to guess who it was for the comfort in his heart and soul was enough for him to know Thranduil was standing there.

Relief filled the heart of the dwarf when he saw the shadowy figure approaching his bed, he swallowed when those blue eyes came into view and he saw pain and worry in them. Thranduil soon concealed his emotions behind a stony façade, the elf tilted his head quirking a brow standing right beside the bed where Thorin was lying down. The Dwarven-Prince knew there was anger behind every action of the elf, Thorin could sense the silent rage and the relief he had felt moments ago soon transform into something cold and unpleasant.

The Elven-Prince regarded the dwarf on the bed with a mixture of feelings he had never experienced in his long centuries on Arda. His heart skipped a beat when he saw Thorin was all right, but his mind was burning with anger at how careless the dwarf had been during battle. There were so many different emotions building up inside the elf he didn’t know how to deal with all of them at once. Thranduil approached the bed hiding his emotions from the dwarf, his hands twitching at his sides trying to get a hold of the warm flesh of Thorin. It was not easy for Thranduil to see Thorin in the state he had seen him during the battle, the desperation he felt when he saw Thorin fell unconscious to the ground was something he hadn’t felt before, not even with Haldir or his mother or on the Fall of Doriath. Finally, Thranduil lifted his eyes until they were looking directly into Thorin’s ones, his hand approached the left hand of the dwarf and their fingers found one another tentatively.

As soon as their hands came to join, Thranduil felt the connection between them pulsating with eagerness at their closeness. The Elven-Prince stepped forward allowing his free hand an intimate touch while moving away some stray locks from Thorin’s face. The heat coming from the dwarf soon helped to warm Thranduil’s cold soul and comfort filled both Princes as they came to share this closeness.

“How mad are you?” The question from Thorin came in with a rough tone, Thorin made a face before coughing a little. Thranduil was tempted to smile, the fact Thorin could tell he was mad brought tranquility to his soul, it reassure him of their connection and the fact Thorin was still open to whatever Thranduil was feeling.

“Mad enough to consider leaving this place and never coming back.” Thranduil squeezed Thorin’s hand while his eyes shifted to the wounds adorning the naked chest of the dwarf. “I’m mad enough to tell you I am not going to suffer through this pain again. That I am not ready to face the fear of losing you and being left alone in this world.”

“You’re being overly dramatic.” Thorin mumbled clearing his throat; the Dwarven-Prince furrowed his brows clearing his throat while trying to sit down, the sudden movement brought a piercing pain in the dwarf. Thorin had to held back his own smile when Thranduil leaned forward rather fast to help him out, the Elf narrowed his eyes and Thorin decided he would not tempt his luck, he could feel just how mad Thranduil was with him.

“I should let you hurt even more. You don’t even know how it feel for me to see you there bath in your own blood.” Thranduil finally said with his face darkening slightly, Thorin noticed the sudden change and he realized Thranduil was hurting more than he initially thought.

The Elven-Prince lifted his face and while his face showed nothing his eyes were speaking volumes to the dwarf, “I can feel you in every fiber of my being; I can tell already your mortal life is not yours anymore. Time won’t be able to take you away from me, Thorin...”

 Thranduil trailed off furrowing his brows, Thorin tilted his head trying to understand the sudden revelation brought by Thranduil. He knew there was more about this bond between them, he knew what Thranduil had told him about their lives being intertwined from now on. Still, it was a little hard to understand or even process the fact he would no longer have to worry about time. The Dwarven-Prince stared at Thranduil who was looking at him again, those long fingers were caressing the wounds on his chest and sorrow was marking the beautiful features of the elf.

“However, injuries and war have the power to take you away from me.” Thranduil finished in a broken tone, the elf shook his head taking his hands away from the dwarf.

Thorin stretched his left hand, his fingers wrapping tenderly around the wrist of the elf. The contact had been unexpected but wanted, Thranduil felt at ease with his body asking of him to move closer and to share the warm he was sensing from the dwarf.

“I won’t apologize.” Thorin said resting comfortably back on the pillows, Thranduil looked away while Thorin let go of the wrist.

Suddenly the world seemed darker and colder, there was emptiness in between them while the only moment of stillness in their lives seemed to be filled with uncertainty of what the future hold for them. Thorin had just woken up after war and destruction had threatened to take over his world.

“I can’t apologize for something I will do all over again if that means I get to protect my home and you.” Thorin replied. “I will apologize, though, for whatever pain I bring you. Because, I understand…”

Thorin kissed Thranduil’s hand, “It was never my intention to make you suffer. I would never do it intentionally.”

“I know.” Thranduil replied smiling gently before his eyes hardened again. Thorin furrowed his brows until he realized why the sudden change, before the dwarf could do or say something Thranduil spoke.

“I won’t apologize either.” Thranduil whispered sitting down on the bed; Thorin glanced at the back of the elf his eyes focused on the long, straight hair falling down on a straightened back covered by a silver shirt.

Thorin stared for a long time while his mind brought the memories of the crazed façade of his father, the moment he had stabbed Thorin and the sword of the elf piercing the chest of the King. The day had ended in a tragedy with his father’s blood staining the floor of the Throne Room, the Mountain had been saved but so much more had been lost. Thorin lifted his hand letting his fingertips caress the tip of the hair, enjoying the softness of those golden locks. Thranduil tensed wanting nothing else but to rest beside Thorin, to let go of whatever thoughts were tormenting him and to merely enjoy a moment of peace.

“I don’t expect you to. You save my life.” Thorin finally stated making Thranduil turned around with his eyes gleaming strangely.

“I killed your father.”

The words left the elf’s lips harshly, Thranduil turned sharply towards Thorin expecting for the dwarf to say something else. It was strange to finally admit this out loud, to acknowledge something bad had happened and everything wasn’t as peaceful as it had been a few days, weeks and even months ago. Thorin felt the reality of those words in his mind, he knew what those words meant and what he should do now. The dwarf swallowed offering a resign expression that held no anger but understanding.

“You killed the monster he had become.” Thorin clarified shaking his head, his lips tightened as he tried to hold in the moan of pain. The Dwarven-Prince couldn’t help the smile on his face when Thranduil brushed his fingertip against his cheeks and forehead.

“I couldn’t let him hurt you. He had done so before without anyone doing or saying anything.” Thranduil swallowed furrowing his brows in confusion. “I do not understand why having you so close to me brings so much pain and happiness, why being near you is gratifying but terrifying…”

Thorin stared silently at Thranduil while the Elven-Prince mapped out the features of the dwarf; his blue eyes were unfocused staring at a faraway memory while his voice filled the silence of the tent. The Dwarven-Prince took a deep breath closing his eyes to quiet down the uncomfortable shiver going through his wounds. The mention of his father had brought a dark cloud to his heart, a cloud that brought with it an ocean of possibilities, questions and unwanted answers Thorin was not ready to deal with. Instead, the dwarf lifted his hand to grasp Thranduil’s one he brought it to his lips placing a gently kiss there trying to bring comfort to the tormented elf.

“You think too much, it’s a wonder you don’t have a constant headache.” Thorin whispered shifting to the right.

“What are you doing?” Thranduil furrowed his brows in concern assisting the dwarf while he moved slightly to the right leaving an open space on the bed.

“I’m making room for you, you fool. What does it look like?”

“Well, by the faces you were making I thought you like pain.” Thranduil replied harshly. “I thought the stubbornness of your race was fueling your idiocy of moving while wounded.”

Thorin couldn’t resist the roll of his eyes, he was in pain but it wasn’t that bad. He just needed Thranduil closer, he needed more time to process all that had happened before morning arrived and he had to face the reality of the world. Besides, Thorin knew Thranduil need this time as well, he could still sense the distress coming from the elf and the anxiousness consuming his soul. The Dwarven-Prince stared at Thranduil pursing his lips a little before speaking.

“I won’t beg.” Thorin stated firmly, Thranduil lifted his chin as if offended by the mere thought of he doing the begging.

“I won’t do such thing either.” Thranduil glared at the sudden smug smirk drawing on the dwarf’s lips.

“Oh, you do beg quite beautifully, _Amrâl_.” Thorin smirked while Thranduil looked rather mortified, the tension between them seemed to diminish while some sort of tranquility tried to settle between them.

Thranduil hesitated for a very long time, he was well aware of those dark eyes completely focused on him waiting for him to do or say something else. In the end, Thranduil laid down facing Thorin while poking the dwarf on the wound on his abdomen when Thorin smirked in triumph.

“Don’t do that.” Thorin hissed glaring at the elf.

“Don’t look so smug, then. I do this out of necessity.” Thranduil replied moving closer his hand resting on the dwarf’s abdomen. Thranduil stared at the face of his lover finding their situation highly unusual, then again everything about them had been unusual since the very beginning.

“Morning is going to arrive soon.” Thorin commented softly placing his own hand on top of Thranduil’s one, the dwarf turned his head to face Thranduil. “I want a few more moments of peace and darkness to share with you before I have to face what happened during the battle.”

“Then, let’s us rest and warm one another. Tomorrow we will face whatever the light of day brings us.” Thranduil whispered cuddling closer to Thorin.

Thorin smiled again, a self-satisfied smile at having his wishes comply without so much effort. He knew there was a conversation to be had; he knew they would need to speak about what had happened in the Throne Room and during the battle. But, the night had given them the opportunity to pretend nothing was wrong, the cover of the darkness was enough for them to share a private moment of intimacy without being interrupted and brought forward to their duties as Princes. Thorin felt all the tiredness and pain left his body the moment Thranduil placed his hand on him, the Dwarven-Prince felt his mind cleaned up of the negative thoughts and the stormy thoughts plaguing his mind when Thranduil snuggled closer to him and his breathing warm up his neck.

The Dwarven-Prince looked out of the corner of his eyes to see what Thranduil was doing only to find the elf had his eyes close and his breathing even. Thranduil, Prince of Mirkwood, was fast asleep with an angelical face and a gently smile adorning his features, no for the first time Thorin wondered how was it possible for the elf to fall asleep when all the stories about this race seemed to confirm they did not sleep easily. Thorin lifted his hand and let his fingers caressed the soft skin of his lover, and just like this he too closed his eyes and allowed himself another moment of peace.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Things had changed.

In the blink of an eye Erebor found itself hosting the armies of men and elves alike, all of them assisting the wounded while others mourned the death. The valley before the mountain was covered with Erebor’s imposing shadow, the warriors and the workers that were clearing the way from the vestiges of battle. The orcs and wargs had been piled up far away from the mountain, on a nearby cliff were they were being burnt under the watchful eye of the dark-skinned elves and some of the dwarves from the Iron Hills. In the midst of the recovery, many inhabitants of Erebor found themselves confused and fearful for news about the dead of the King and the wounded state of the Prince had reached them even before the battle had been over.

Thorin Oakenshield, Crowned Prince of Erebor stood before the council chamber where the Dwarven Council was sitting waiting for him. The Dwarven-Prince stepped inside with his eyes moving from one dwarf lord to the other until his eyes fell upon the faces of his company of friends and, finally, on the faces of Erebor’s allies and Gandalf. Everyone was waiting for him and, as soon as he got there, conversation died off and everyone stood up to receive him with a respectful bow. Thorin swallowed placing his hand on his chest while accepting the congratulatory words from the council, his eyes drifted slightly until the fell upon the Istari who was glancing at him with a mixture of sympathy and understanding. Thorin turned his head nodding to the guard who soon closed the door of the chambers with a heavy thud, Thranduil stepped forward moving past Thorin to sit to his father’s right while Dáin took his rightful place at the left of the King’s chair. The Dwarven-Prince stood near the entrance watching the chair that had been his father’s just a couple of weeks ago.

“Please, take a sit. I believe there is much to be discussed.” Thorin spoke breaking the ever growing silence around the room; the Dwarven council glanced at one another before sitting down.

Thorin stepped forward aware of the eyes of his kin on him, he lifted his dark eyes to see Dwalin and Balin glancing solemnly at him, Bilbo was smiling slightly while his eyes showed worry. Everyone in the room was looking rather expectant waiting patiently for Thorin to sit down; the Dwarven-Prince stood beside his father’s chair, he lifted his stare and without a hint of doubt sat down.

“ _Sigin akyul id-Uzbad!”_ Lord Faern said loudly while hitting the table with his fist closed, the rest of the dwarves repeated the same words turning to Thorin who sat straightened up, his shoulder put slightly backwards and his features completely tense.

The rest of the room looked at the scene with confusing stares but the dwarves offered no explanation at what they had just done. Thranduil gave Thorin a quick glance noticing the tension on his eyes, the sudden doubt gleaming behind those black irises. Thorin shifted slightly until his eyes found those of Thranduil, the elf inclined his head trying to offer comfort.

“I am not King yet.” Thorin finally said glancing at his kin then at their allies. “I’m still Prince of Erebor and as such I cannot make decisions on my own without consulting the honourable council of Erebor for advice.”

“This is one of the reasons why we were waiting for His Majesty to wake up.” Lord Faern said furrowing his brows. “Erebor must have a King; everything is getting ready for your coronation, my Liege.”

Thorin nodded reclining against the back of the chair, “There is still time, Lord Faern. I want Dís to be here on such a day, and I want Erebor to recover first before taking the crown upon myself.”

Oropher quirked a brow, his eyes dancing around with amusement when he realized this was not what the council was hoping for. The Elven-King leaned forward his lips curling up slightly.

“Wise words, Prince Thorin, overall since the events regarding your father’s dead had not been cleared up.” King Oropher turned then to the rest of the council then to all the presents sitting at the table.  “I must inquire, then as to what happened in the Throne Room with King Thráin and you while the rest of the Dwarrows, the elves and men were fighting a battle at Erebor’s gates.”

Thorin clenched his jaw narrowing his eyes at Oropher, “Careful, King Oropher, for your tone is implying there is no honour or truthfulness in the actions of the Dwarrows of Erebor, your allies.”

“I was merely voicing the question rising in everyone’s mind, Prince Thorin.” Oropher explained tilting his head to the side.

Thorin looked away to see Oropher was not lying, everyone seemed rather eager to learn what had happened in the Throne Room while the rest of the world was at war. Thorin had heard from Dáin rumours surrounding Thráin’s death had already leak around and all of them were not only terrible but sometimes ridiculous as well.

Thranduil clenched his fist while glancing straight ahead; his father shifted forward tilting his head to stare at Thorin with a stoic expression place upon his ageless features.

“Tell us, Prince Thorin, is it true your father was suffering from madness and gold-lust?” Oropher questioned with just a hint of dare in his voice.

Everyone tensed up; the Dwarrows of the council were all glaring openly at Oropher while Balin and Dwalin were glancing at Thorin with concern on their eyes. Thorin Oakenshield stared at the King for a long moment before he spoke up.

“He was not mad, but he was suffering gold-sickness; a sickness King Oropher must know pretty well.” Thorin replied leaning back against the chair; Oropher curled his lips while his eyes turned colder.

Thorin then turned his attention to the rest of the people present at the table watching confusion in some of the faces he spoke up ready to offer an explanation.

“It is said that gold-sickness is the love, the obsession for any form of treasure, it can be gold, jewels and other precious things.” Thorin dropped his voice while his eyes found those of Thranduil. “Whatever love the individual may have felt for his family, his land or his people is lost for the love of material things.”

Bard furrowed his brows glancing at Thorin then at Thranduil, the man crossed his arms shaking his head.

“I’ve heard of this, perhaps not with this name. I didn’t know King Thráin have been trapped by this illness. My deepest condolences, Prince Thorin.” Bard realized his words were not taken kindly by the dwarf Prince who narrowed his eyes at him, the man held the stare until Thorin looked away rather sharply.

“Yes, well…Father’s sickness brought in some serious troubles to the maintenance of Erebor.” Thorin glanced at the council. “You know more than anyone how my father was faring, and you know better than anyone what happened to him after I left for Khand.”

“We do, Your Majesty.” Lord Agamm said gravelly. “He was not himself and, for what we heard, the Greenstone Clan took this as an advantage for them. The opportunists tried to take what had been denied to them a long time ago.”

“Then, this is what happened?” King Oropher questioned. “A rebel clan tried to take over the Throne killing the King and Lord Fundin in the process? Is this why you were so late for battle, Prince Thorin?”

Thorin opened his mouth to speak but it was Dwalin the one who answer first, he stood beside Thorin regarding the room with his hardened eyes until they focused their attention on the Elven-King.

“King Thráin had been confused; Drugin and Novar Greenstone took this to their advantage wanting to end the Line of Durin once and for all.” Dwalin glanced at his friend before returning his attention back to the rest of the room. “They lure Prince Thorin in by taking Prince Thranduil and Prince Legolas as hostages while they kept the King as a hostage in the Throne room. He was late for battle because he was trying to save your kin, King Oropher.”

“My father and myself tried to tell the King about the battle but we were caught by these traitors.” Balin chimed in standing to the other side of Thorin. “In the midst of confusion, Novar killed my father while Drugin killed King Thráin. If it hadn’t been for Prince Thranduil quick thinking and Prince Thorin’s reaction the story would have been different.”

Thorin sat frozen on the spot, his eyes completely focused on some point at the other side of the table while his heart beat erratically. He wanted to glance at his friend but if he did so his façade would break and whatever lies Dwalin and Balin were saying would be questioned. Thorin tilted his head and saw as King Oropher narrowed his eyes slightly while the dwarven council discussed amongst them; for a brief moment Thorin noticed the eyes of Gandalf on him, there was a strange light in the eyes of the wizard but the Dwarven-Prince decided to look away for the time being.

“This is outrageous! Treason of the worst kind!” Lord Agamm exclaimed hitting the table, the rest of the dwarven council nodded agreeing with the dwarf Lord. “Something must be done with the Greenstone Clan, they must be punished for this!”

“I agreed. This should be punished for, as far as I know, this isn’t the first time the Greenstone Clan has tried to raise against the Line of Durin.” The voice of Thranduil was carried around the room bringing the attention of the presents to the Elven-Prince, Thranduil crossed his legs reclining against the chair. “I believe we should also look into the connection the leaders of the Clan may have had with Dol-Guldur.”

“With the Fortress?” Lord Faern questioned scratching his beard. “What does Dol-Guldur have anything to do with this?”

“I’m glad you ask this, Lord Faern.” Gandalf chimed in resting his arms on the table while looking gravelly at all the presents in the room. “I’m afraid I was aware of the oncoming attack against Erebor but other business brought my attention far from the mountain.”

“You knew about this, Gandalf? And you didn’t say anything? A message would have helped, you know?” Bilbo exclaimed annoyed. “What could be more important than coming here?”

“Sauron.” Gandalf replied simply.

Bilbo paled at the mention of this name but aside from the elves no one else seemed really impressed by this revelation. Thorin blinked a couple of times, the question was on his lips but it was never asked for his eyes went to the sudden ashy façade of Thranduil. For a brief moment, Thorin felt hopelessness coming from Thranduil and the elf stared back at him with fear in his eyes. The Dwarven-Prince was tempted to stand up and go to the elf but Thranduil clenched his jaw lowering his gaze and returning his attention to the Istari.

“Who is Sauron?” Gloin asked looking around.

“A great evil.” King Erumion spoke and the eyes of all the presents were on him, King Oropher stared at the elf tore between fascination and suspicion.  “A long time ago, a great evil reign over these lands, his name was Sauron and many thought him dead.”

“A common mistake.” Gandalf replied nodding. “He is not dead, of course. He is too cunning for such a quick end. He is back, but for now his power is not what it used to be and our job is to keep it that way.”

“What interest does Sauron have in Erebor?” Bilbo questioned glancing at Thorin then back at Gandalf. “Why sent messengers in here? Why attacked it later on after having offered peace?”

“Erebor has a great position and workforce.”

“Slaves, you mean.” Thorin replied dryly, he shook his head placing his right hand on the table. “If this is a great evil as you say, what do we have to do to vanquish it of this world once and for all?”

Gandalf opened his eyes slightly, his lips curved a little while those grey eyes of his gleamed pleasantly.

“Nothing.” Gandalf replied simply. “At least, for now; Sauron has run away to unknown lands after having come face to face with the White Council. He is still weak and the chances of him recovering his full power are slim.”

“Are you suggesting we should let him go, Mithrandir? Because, I hope I don’t need to remind you what has he done and what he will do if we let him run stray in Arda.” Thranduil was sounding furious, his eyes piercing Gandalf who seemed unfazed by the intensity of the stare.

“No, of course not, Prince Thranduil. However, there are more pressing evils that demand our attention.” Gandalf replied simply.

“Like who?”

“Like Azog.” Thorin mumbled looking over at Thranduil then back at Dáin.

Dáin had briefed Thorin on what had happened while the Prince was unconscious, the battle had ended as soon as the banner of the enemy had been taken down and Bofur had sealed off the last of the tunnels. It didn’t take long for the allied forces to wipe out what was left of the army of orcs, wargs and bats; however, Azog the defiler had gotten away. This news had worried Thorin who couldn’t help the worry frown adorning his features as Dáin, Dwalin and Thranduil explained to Thorin Bolg had been the only one left in the citadel of Ravenhill while Azog took the chance to run away. As everyone got ready to receive the night, Dáin got the news of the King’s dead; the Royal guard had come to the Throne room to find the bodies of the King and his friend and advisor on the ground bleeding with some of the members of the Greenstone clan lying around as well. The council had been notified and when they had been looking for their Prince they realized he too had been wounded in battle. The tension in the mountain had been contained thanks to the quick thinking of the council and Dáin himself, this was the reason as to why Thorin had to come as soon as he woke up to the council chambers to give answers and to get some in return.

“That’s correct, this attack was done in the hopes of recovering an ancient fortress that’s on the limits of the Misty Mountains and that could get connect directly to Erebor.” Gandalf explained. “Today this attempt failed by more could come in the near future.”

“Next time Erebor is going to be prepared.” Dwalin growled out. “We won’t let these bastards to get to us a second time.”

All the Dwarrows nodded their heads in agreement; King Oropher lifted his chin while he looked out of the corner of his eyes at his son. Thranduil was oddly silent while Thorin seemed unable to keep his eyes away from the elf, the Elven-King pursed his lips while crossing his arms.

“Mithrandir is right.” King Oropher finally conceded. “What happened to the valley of Erebor should never be allowed to happen again. The enemy must never take over Erebor or its inhabitants. If Sauron becomes a threat again, we will face it the same way we did a long time ago.”

The room was suddenly left in a vibrating silence, many of the presents were tired for they had gone to battle and had fight until the very end. Some of the members of the dwarven council were anxious of the situation and the participation of these strangers in a meeting they thought would discuss the Prince and his promptly coronation. Lord Faern directed his attention to the dark-skinned elf who was leaning forward, his voice deep and melodic resounded in the room. 

“The Kingdom of Erebor won’t be alone if there is going to be another attack.” King Erumion commented looking around the table. “The Kingdom of Dorwinion is with Prince Thorin and Prince Thranduil, if there is going to be trouble in the near future we will come in their help.”

Thorin smiled gently at this, “Once again I owe you a debt of life, King Erumion.”

“Such debts don’t exist among friends, Prince Thorin.” Erumion replied smiling as well. “Besides, this is for the greater good of the races of Middle Earth, if the great evil is back in this world the best we can do is join forces.”

“For those who do not know,” Thorin started watching the expressions of confusion on his friends and the other’s faces. “King Erumion and his partner King Tuon saved Thranduil and I from a horrible dead in the desert after the Greenstone Clan attacked the ship we were in.”

“I owed them my life.” Thorin said bowing his head to them.

 “This explains then why all of a sudden we received their help.” King Oropher commented glancing at the Kings of Dorwinion. “It was appreciated, the same way it was appreciated the arrival of Lord Dáin.”

“It is good to see all of the presents are ready to help in the oncoming conflicts.” Gandalf stated glancing around the room with a hopeful light in his eyes. “I’m afraid with Azog still alive and some of the inhabitants of Dol-Guldur escaping, conflicts is what we’re going to have.”

“What happened here was a disgrace forge in the shadows for a common enemy to all the races presented at this table.” Bard stated slowly looking around the table to all the presents, his eyes fell upon Thranduil before they moved to Thorin. “We were blinded by the illusions of peace and thus we lowered our guards which gave our enemy the advantage he used to try and take over Erebor and the House of Durin and, in turn, to try and get control over Rhovanion.”

“The question now it’s, what are we going to do.” Thorin spoke again facing Bard with daring eyes. “What shall we do and how we shall organize ourselves to not allow this to happen ever again.”

Bard felt the weight of such a stare in his mind, he could see Thorin was still unsure on what to think of the King. Bard could understand this uneasiness coming from the Prince, if he were in Thorin’s place he would feel the same towards the man who once shared Thranduil’s bed. The King of Dale looked away centring his attention on the table to hide away the pain still present in his soul.

“I believed, Prince Thorin, the first thing we should do is organized your coronation.” Gandalf commented glancing towards the Dwarven council, all the elders nodded their heads in agreement.

“I agreed. Erebor cannot continue without the King sitting on the Throne.” Lord Faern commented turning to Thorin. “We must do this rather quickly for the matters of the Kingdom demand your promptly action, my Liege.”

Thorin Oakenshield was caught by surprised with this declaration, his eyes opened slightly while his body tense completely. The Dwarven-Prince could feel the presence of his friends standing right beside him, he could feel the eyes of Thranduil on him trying to give him the strength he wasn’t feeling. Up to this moment he had forgotten the wounds of battle, but the mention of the coronation brought a piercing pain on his abdomen, the same place his father had stroke a few days ago. King Oropher regarded the Dwarven-Prince with interested, his eyes gleamed slightly while he studied the dwarf he had betrothed to his son.

When he first met Thorin he saw much of Durin in the young lad, he had seen the same strength and the same moral compass; Thorin had been born to be King if guided correctly and if the influence of King Thráin could be prevented. So far, the young Prince had shown a backbone Oropher didn’t think possible and still the Elven-King could guess the hesitation in the dwarf’s heart. Oropher tilted his head to see his son’s eyes on the dwarf, the Elven-King could still smell the scent of the dwarf on Thranduil and he didn’t need to be too observant to know emotions had been developed between the two of them.

“I won’t accept the crown until we have taken care of the dead and the reconstruction of the valley.” Thorin finally said, the Dwarven council erupted in worried conversation but Thorin merely lifted a hand to them his eyes demanding silence. “I won’t take it either unless my sister is here. She needs to be on this day to validate my claim to the Throne.”

Lord Faern shifted on the chair with his brows deeply furrowed, the dwarven Lord stared at the elves, then at Bard and then at Gandalf before he nodded grudgingly.

“Tradition dictates if there is another member of the family who can back up your claim she should be convoked.” Lord Faern. “I’m glad Prince Thorin is mindful of tradition but given the circumstances…”

“The people of Erebor will understand this. Erebor is not without guidance, I’m still a Prince and my sister will not take long to join us.” Thorin replied. “You know her, Lord Faern, as soon as she heard the news she will come here without anyone or anything stopping her.”

“Besides, a raven was already sent to her. The news must have reached her already or at least they must be on their way.” Dáin clarified. “For my part, I believe this is a wise take of action. After what happened a lot has to be done and many decisions must be taken and this time could help us in no making any mistakes.”

Dáin didn’t need to specify what or to whom he was referring to. Everyone knew something must be done with the Greenstone Clan, but there weren’t many who had a pacific resolution to the problem.

“If this is the last will of Prince Thorin then we will comply.” Lord Agamm stated lifting his eyes to the other side of the table.

“Please, do not mind us at all, Lord Agamm.” Oropher smirked leaning back on the chair. “We have come as friends and allies, and my son is still engaged to the future King. We will stay and help Erebor in anything they need.”

Thranduil shoot a quick glance to his father but said nothing while some of the dwarves around the table stiffened uncomfortably.  King Bard pursed his lips before offering a tentative smile to Prince Thorin.

“I believe the people of Dale will stay here as well, I believe we can offer the Kingdom of Erebor some help and it would be better if we stay together until we know the danger is over.”

“Wise words, King Bard.” Gandalf continued. “Though I believe the danger is far from over, being all together in one place may work in our favour.”

“You don’t have to sound so gloomy.” Bilbo commented shaking his head. “Well, if this is everything I believed food is waiting for us, as well as a lot of work.”

Thorin watched as many members of the council stood up leaving the room while shooting strange glances at Thranduil and then at their Prince. Bard tapped the table delaying for a moment his departure, the man shifted on the chair while his eyes turned to Thranduil, the Elven-Prince stood up rather abruptly putting the chair away while approaching Thorin. This was all Bard needed to see for him to stand up as well and bid everyone good-bye.

The room was almost empty when the door closed behind Lord Faern; the Dwarven Lord hesitated only for a moment before closing the door while leaving the elves along with his Prince and the wizard inside.  Bilbo made a face while placing his hand on his abdomen; he could tell already his idea of fetching some food would be dismissed while there were still things left to say. The hobbit was surprised, though when he realized it was King Oropher and not the dwarven council or even King Bard the ones who wanted a more private meeting with Thorin.  

“I hope you understand the great responsibility you have now acquired with the Woodland Realm, Prince Thorin.” The King of the Woodland Realm stated with his clever eyes fixated on the dwarf.

Thorin furrowed his brows in confusion, out of the corner of his eyes he could see Thranduil was not at ease. If anything, the Elven-Prince seemed anxious to the situation. King Oropher tilted his head, his golden locks falling behind his back while his eyes gleamed dangerously taking in the dwarf sitting at the head of the table.

“I have been aware of this, King Oropher, ever since you and my father decided to engage me and Prince Thranduil.” Thorin replied tersely, he realized this was the first time he spoke with the King. Of course, Thorin thought this conversation would turn out to be different, perhaps with less uneasiness between them and with less anxiousness hanging around the room.

The Elven-King placed his hand on the table with his eyes contemplating the sight before him. He was sitting alone on this spot, the eyes of the dwarves on him while his son had his back on him.

“I do not think you understand completely, Prince Thorin. And I’m starting to wonder if my son has told you everything.” King Oropher lifted his hand resting the elbow on the table resting his cheek on his hand.

Thorin leaned forward resting his arms on the table; the Dwarven-Prince curved his lips in a smile shaking his head. 

“He told me everything and I understand pretty well, King Oropher.” Thorin kept his eyes on Oropher pursing his lips for a moment before speaking again. “I’ve made a decision regarding this situation, and I hope this could be discussed at a later time but I belief this is the right time to do it.”

“I’m listening.” King Oropher replied with a hint of interested in his voice.

Thranduil faced Thorin narrowing his eyes, his heart was beating rather fast while he tried to catch Thorin’s attention. The dwarf, however, was preoccupied with the King to even take noticed of his lover. The rest of the room was enjoying the show watching from one leader to the other.

“Our child will be King or Queen of both Kingdoms.” Thorin stated to which Oropher nodded sharply, Thranduil felt his cheeks burn and his lips relaxed at the announcement. “However, until such a time arrives Legolas shall be named our heir.”

If he had not been trained to hide his emotions away, King Oropher would have fallen from his chair. The room was left in a dead silence; Gandalf nodded lifting his eyebrows while glancing at Oropher.  Thranduil for his part was torn between hitting Thorin or wrapping his arms around him, the Elven-Prince kept his eyes on Thorin while his heart beat faster.

“I see he really did tell you everything.” King Oropher replied sharply, the King shoot a heated glare to his son before he put on a blank expression.  “Are you sure you want to do this, Prince Thorin? What would you kin say about you naming the son of another as an heir of Erebor?”

“My kin loves Legolas.” Thorin stated. “I’ve seen him walking around Erebor with many of them bowing to him, greeting him and sharing their time with him. The question here, King Oropher, is if you’re ready to admit he is your grandson and not your son.”

Thranduil neared Thorin with his arm trembling slightly, with some hesitation the Elven-Prince placed his hand on top of Thorin’s shoulder and the Dwarven-Prince tilted his head to smile at him before returning his attention to Oropher. The Elven-King stared at the dwarf for a long time, his eyes went from the dwarf to his son; it was undeniable what had happened and Oropher was so tempted to curse himself for not seeing this.  The Elven-King watched the hand of his son, the tenderness behind his gestures and the light gleaming in those blue eyes. Thranduil was happy.

“Ask him, Prince Thorin, and once the crown is above your head you can do as you wish. I will not oppose you or my son on this matter.”

King Oropher stood up and without another word or another glance at his son he left the room. Thorin took a deep breath before making a face of pure pain; his free hand went immediately to the wound on his abdomen closing his eyes enjoying the cold comfort coming from Thranduil’s touch.

“Well, this meeting went well.” Dáin commented shaking his head.

Thranduil snorted kneeling down to move away the heavy clothing wrapped around Thorin’s body, the Dwarven-Prince opened one eye to glare at Dáin. Dáin wriggled his eyebrows at Thorin pointing at Thranduil.

“Do you want us to leave you alone with the Pointy-ear here?” Thranduil turned sharply glaring at Dáin while the dwarf chuckled.

“I’m going to kill your cousin one of these days.” Thranduil replied with his fingertips caressing the tender flesh around Thorin’s open wound. “And then, I’m going to hurt you for being so stubborn and coming here without waiting for me or one of the healers to close your wound.”

“I couldn’t be so late to this meeting.” Thorin explained smiling a little; the Prince lifted his eyes then focusing his stare on Balin and Dwalin. “I’m going to be fine, _Amrâl._ Your touch is enough to make me feel better.”

Thranduil faltered in his touch, he stayed in the same position for a moment before lifting his face and engaging Thorin in a deep kiss. Dáin howled until he received a punch from Bilbo, the rest of the company were torn between curiosity and awkwardness. Gandalf from his part seemed rather touch by this moment, the fact these two different creatures found such a deep bound as it was love was a great accomplishment in itself.

“Thank you.” Thranduil whispered against Thorin’s lips, the dwarf shook his head capturing Thranduil in another kiss, their lips met for a brief moment in which Thorin rested enjoying the taste of the elf. The kiss was over too son, Thranduil moved away rather daze while the Dwarven-Prince leaned back straightened himself up looking away for a moment.

“There is nothing to thank me, Thranduil. Not yet anyway.” The Dwarven-Prince moved away wanting to stand up and face his friends and everyone present in the room. Thranduil followed him swiftly sensing the change in mood. “There are some answers I need form you and my friends.”

Thorin felt guilty, he stepped back placing a space between himself and the elf. He knew the following conversation would not have placed if he were to share such proximity with Thranduil. Having taste those lips again, Thorin felt his resolution dimmer and his soul demanded to hold Thranduil closer.

“Why lie?” Thorin finally asked when he was sure he was facing the group at a safe distance, his eyes went from one to the other until the fell upon Thranduil who was looking at him with a solemn glint in his eyes.

Balin rested his hands on his thighs a tired gesture of the last few days, Dwalin sat down as well lifting his eyes to stare at his friend who was still confused. Thranduil crossed his arms aware of the heavy stare of the hobbit ad the Istari. 

“Some members of the council already doubted your father’s ability to reign; if they found out he was completely mad they would have lost what little trust they have in you.” Balin explained shaking his head.

“You must understand, Thorin, the Dwarrows of the council trust in the House of Durin as long as they show signs of being trustworthy.” Dwalin continued the explanation. “Your father’s erratic behaviour as of late had been undermining the ability of the House to lead Erebor.”

“People need to believe due to your father’s sickness he was influenced by someone more cunning than him. That he was used in his own weakness while you were being a victim of an attack.”

Thorin stiffened hearing all the explanations without moving from the spot he had been standing on, the Dwarven-Prince felt a growing headache blurring his sight. Thorin knew this moment of stillness was a privilege for his duties would soon demand of him to be at the front of the reparations and the burials; soon Thorin would be needed outside giving words of comfort to his people while making deals with their allies.

“No one can’t know it was King Thráin the one making deals with Dol-Guldur or the Greenstone Clan.” Thranduil spoke and his soft tone was carried around the room until it reached the ears of his lover.

Thorin faced Thranduil with a hint of disbelief in his eyes, “So, all of you are asking me to lie for my well-being?”

“For the well-being of the Kingdom, Thorin.” Bilbo stated. “This must be a secret to keep the faith of the people in the right guidance of House of Durin.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time, and it won’t be the last time such an even must be hidden.” Thranduil offered a sympathetic stare to the dwarf who was looking away with his fists closed.

The silence was almost overwhelming and the room shivered when Thorin left without a single word. Thranduil made an attempt to follow him but was stopped by a single gesture from the hobbit.

“Let him be. He needs time.” Bilbo commented tiredly. “I think all of us need time, the coronation is going to be a huge event and everything must be organized to welcome Dís and to crown Thorin as the new King.”

“You just want to have everything ready for Dís.” Bofur commented with a smirk. “Just remember Vili is coming as well.”

“Oh, shut up, Bofur.” Bilbo grumbled hitting the dwarf with a crumpled piece of paper.

The atmosphere around them seemed to relax a little and soon the room was filled with the buzzing sound of conversation.  Gandalf kept his eyes on Thranduil, the Elven-Prince was about to leave again when his eyes locked with those of the wizard.

“You did well, you need not to worry about Prince Thorin. He knows you and the others are right.” Gandalf stated with Bilbo nodding in agreement.

“This doesn’t make me feel any better, Mithrandir.” Thranduil rested his hand on the table hearing the conversation between the dwarves growing in volume.

“It’s not supposed to make you feel better.” Bilbo replied shrugging. “Let him be for a while. He needs his time alone. Meanwhile, we can all go to my home and have something to eat. I believe Legolas is waiting for us there already.”

“Yes, food! I agree.”

“You always agree when there is food involved, Bombur.” Bofur hit his brother on the shoulder while the others laughed and spoke loudly.

“I agreed as well, this meeting went on and on and I didn’t even have breakfast this morning.”

Gandalf chuckled as everyone got ready to join Bilbo, Thranduil rolled his eyes shaking his head in disbelief.

“You have grown to care for them, have you not?” Gandalf inquired, Thranduil contemplated the question for a moment before nodding curtly.

“I have, just don’t tell them.” Thranduil watched as the eyes of the wizard gleamed mischievously.

“And, you have come to love their Prince, even going so far as to bond with him.”

Thranduil nodded curtly, “I have. I never thought…”

“No, I believe you never thought this could be possible, and yet, here we are.” Gandalf stood up offering a kind smile to the elf. “Bilbo is right; we should go and eat something while you give Thorin time. Then, you can go to him and the time to re-build everything up will come with you by his side.”

Thranduil could not do or say anything else, instead he followed Bilbo and the others a part of him wanting nothing more than to follow Thorin while another part eager to go and see his son. In the end, the Elven-Prince realized Gandalf and Bilbo were right; he needed to give Thorin time but Thorin was mistaken if he thought Thranduil would be keeping away for too long. The elf had already made a promise to not lose him again, and this was a promise he was ready to keep.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Thranduil felt frustration building up inside him.

He was tempted to throw away all the items carefully placed on the table in his father’s tent, but to do so would imply he was behaving in a childish manner and he was not child. Not anymore. Legolas glanced at his father with curiosity while Glorfindel smirked in amusement, his eyes following the Prince while he walked around the tent. King Oropher pursed his lips ignoring Thranduil as much as he could while instructing Galion and Feren on the next step in the reconstruction of the Valley of Erebor.

“The Prince of Erebor thinks this will help in the sealing of tunnels.” King Oropher showed said tunnels on the map. “I agree, it’s a solid plan but he will need our help in the building of the barrier.”

Thranduil narrowed his eyes with his icy stare glaring at the map his father was showing to his two commanders. Oropher seemed unfazed by this, the King was decided to ignore his son for as long as he could. Galion shifted uncomfortably shooting a quick glance at the Prince before clearing his throat and speaking up.

“Prince Thorin made me aware of his plans.” Galion was tempted to cringe when the Prince turned sharply towards him. “I am to meet him in a few minutes to start the working as long as King Oropher agrees with this.”

Oropher lifted his stare crossing eyes with his son before nodding briefly, “I am. You can go and work alongside Prince Thorin. Meanwhile, I want Feren to get everything ready to return to Mirkwood, the coronation is getting closer and I want the Woodland Realm to be ready to do the right honours for this event.”

Galion and Feren both bowed to their King before turning around and leaving the tent, Thranduil was tempted to follow Galion but a single shake of Legolas head told him this was not a good idea. The Elven-Prince huffed in frustration as he turned to his father who was wearing the same amused expression as Glorfindel. The King sat down regarding his son in a light he had never considered possible, the King lifted an eyebrow indicting the chair to Legolas left side. Legolas glanced at his father then at his grandfather, he felt Beleg trying to catch his attention by placing his paw on his leg while whining a little.

“You seem distress.” King Oropher stated, Thranduil looked away composing himself before sitting straightened up on the chair with his chin lifted and his eyes gleaming with emotion.

“I do not know what you are talking about, father.” Thranduil finally spoke.

“Of course you do. Prince Thorin has not been very attentive of you for more than two weeks.” King Oropher studied his son speaking calmly and ignoring the hurt state of his son. “At first, I thought this was a mere whim of yours, a matter to infuriate me. Now, I am not so sure.”

Thranduil held his father’s stare with determination, his emotions hiding away behind icy blue eyes. It had been more than two weeks and Thranduil kept on counting the days; Thranduil should had never followed Bilbo’s advice to give Thorin time to think things over. The Dwarven-Prince seemed determined to avoid him as if Thranduil was a great nuisance to him. It hurt, it hurt more than Thranduil care to admit. The Elven-Prince had tried to get closer to Thorin but whenever he tried it Thorin would dismiss him and attend to other matters. At first Thranduil thought this had something to do with the burials and the reconstruction; Thorin and the Dwarven council had taken it upon themselves to give the highest of honours to all the warriors that fought valiantly in the protection of the mountain. The funerals had been great with families mourning and their leaders mourning alongside them, Thorin had offered an explanation to his people and his words had reached not only the Dwarrows of Erebor but the men of Dale and the elves of Mirkwood. Thranduil had never felt more proud of him than he was at that moment. But, when he tried to approach Thorin to be by his side the Dwarven-Prince had disappeared and busied himself with his people.

Now, with the reconstruction of Ravenhill and the Valley Thorin seemed even further away than before and Thranduil was starting to feel his absence in the way of a piercing blade cutting through his soul. Before this moment, Thranduil feared he might lose Thorin to his wounds and to war; now Thranduil feared he was losing Thorin in other ways.

Oropher waited for his son to do or say something, but it was obvious Thranduil was not in the right state of mind to be coherent to voice what he wanted or what he was feeling. The King shifted slightly leaning forward while grabbing a piece of parchment that had been resting on the table.

“Queen Dís wrote to us. She is arriving in two days.” Oropher allowed himself a half-smirk while passing the parchment to Thranduil. “She is quite the character. I can only imagine the sheer power behind her command to make this trip in such a short amount of time.”

“She is known to be a great leader with a firm hand and not patience for incompetence.” Glorfindel commented.

“I like her, and little Fíli.” Legolas lifted Beleg who was more than happy to rest on his master’s lap, Oropher furrowed his brows for Beleg was no longer a puppy and he was growing fast. “I bet she did the impossible to be near Thorin at this time, I know Thorin misses her.”

“You spoke to him?” Thranduil questioned without thinking about it, Legolas looked away nodding.

“I believe the only one who has not been able to cross words with the Prince of Erebor it’s you, Thranduil.” King Oropher said measuring his words while glancing at his son.

“Apparently.” Thranduil replied icily, the Elven-Prince stood up turning to leave the tent. “If you excuse me, I believe I have some matters to attend to.”

“I haven’t dismissed you yet, Thranduil.” King Oropher’s tone was firm, the Prince kept his back to his father but stopped any attempt of leaving. “Things are different now, Thranduil. Prince Thorin has realized this and what he needs right now is answers and solutions, not another trouble.”

Thranduil lowered his gaze nodding sharply before leaving. Legolas furrowed his brows turning back to his grandfather, the young Elven-Prince shook his head when he saw Oropher was merely smiling. Legolas shook his head standing up with Beleg jumping down and following him out of the tent, Oropher had to wonder since when his son and grandson had become so openly defiant of his words and commands. The King had come to the conclusion he should blame Erebor for this show of rebellion.

“He really is in love with the dwarf.” Oropher stated to which Glorfindel could only nod. “I never thought this could be possible, Thranduil had never shown affection for the race of Durín and he was most infuriate when the engagement was announced.”

“He had come to know Prince Thorin, my King.” Glorfindel commented sitting down while glancing at the King.

“Oh, yes, I notice this.” Oropher replied dryly. “I bet they got to know one another pretty well, to the point now there is nothing I can do to break this engagement.”

“Were you really going to break them apart?” Glorfindel regarded the King with sharp eyes but the King merely shrugged.

“If I deem it necessary. I’m not as cruel and heartless as my son’s thinks me to be.”

“You have shown him no reason to think otherwise.” Glorfindel replied, Oropher pursed his lips nodding briefly.

“True. Still, a Prince is better than a soldier.” Oropher shifted on the chair while his eyes locked with those of Glorfindel. “This is what you or anyone else never understood. Now, Thranduil is understanding, now he is feeling it.”

“I thought you would oppose this.” Glorfindel stated pursing his lips.

“I do, but there isn’t much I can do. Thorin and Thranduil are now joined by something I cannot break unless I want to destroy them.” Oropher shook his head with a hint of disgust in his eyes. “I’m not cruel, I would never break such a deep bond, not even if I’m not thrill with the prospect of a dwarf becoming part of my family.”

Glorfindel smirked, “You know? Lady Galadriel and the rest of the White Council are going to enjoy this news.”

Oropher rolled his eyes pursing his lips, “Don’t even remind me this. I have received word of them coming to the Coronation.”

Glorfindel chuckled looking around before leaning forward, “You deserve it, my Lord. You should have told Prince Thranduil the reason behind Prince Thorin’s actions instead of fuelling his insecurities.”

Oropher blinked a couple of times before shrugging, “I taught Thranduil to be patient and his mother taught him to get whatever it is he wants, if he can’t do these things and demand explanations from the dwarf then it is not my problem.”

Glorfindel shook his head standing up to make his way to the table containing the wine and the cups, King Oropher watched as Glorfindel served the drinks grabbing both cups and passing one of them to his King.

“What make you change your mind, Oropher?” Glorfindel inquired. Oropher grabbed the cup taking a single sip tasting the sweet flavour of wine.

Oropher looked down at the red beverage while musing over the question, it wasn’t so much he had changed his mind. If he were to be honest, he still thought of this as a strategy for the survival of his Kingdom. Still, he had seen it and had sense it when he had been near his son and Thorin: Love. Such a ridiculous notion, not only did this word made him want to roll his eyes, the concept of soul bounding or even of dwarves and elves joined by this emotion seemed absurd in his mind. He tried to understand it, but was incapable of doing so. Oropher remembered the first time he noticed Thranduil was no longer a loner, his scent as well as his whole spirit had changed shifted in no time to sometime more complicate and warm. The King had tried to discover the source of this change perceiving this had nothing to do with Thranduil but with Thorin.

“Apparently, my dear friend, Prince Thorin makes Thranduil happy.” The King offered no more explanation and Glorfindel didn’t ask for one, the fact the King was admitting this was enough for Glorfindel to feel satisfied. Perhaps, this was the right direction for Oropher to leave behind his cold and indifferent attitude and become more open with his affections.

*****

Nights had become the favourite time of the inhabitants of Erebor and the people of Dale and Mirkwood.

Music, food and drinks were usually passed around to let the tired souls of the working races rest and find comfort in the midst of celebration. Everyone had been working hard on the restoration of the Valley and the Citadel, many of them had worked on giving the fallen warriors the right honours of war and all of them were looking for the feeling of normality they had felt a few weeks ago.

Thorin watched the celebration from tower of Erebor, he could heard the music and the buzzing of many conversations happening in the valley before Erebor. The Dwarven-Prince looked down the balcony with a contemplative stare on his face, he turned around to see the darkened room still empty with a single lamp flickering around with its yellow flame, the shadows dancing around the wall with the wind blowing teasingly around him. It had been more than two hours since Thorin had sought out the solitude of the room he had given to Thranduil all those weeks ago. The Dwarven-Prince looked down at his hands thinking of all the things he had been doing in the last few days, the path to his own redemption had been a hard one. Thorin had made sure to start building all that had been destroyed by the battle, he had took it upon himself to go over all the documentation and all the inventory of the things his father had taken away from innocent people. The council had giving him a hand, of course, and Dwalin along with Balin and Dáin had helped him out to see what had been done in the shadows by his father and the Greenstone Clan. Thorin had taken it upon himself to work around what had been done to the Kingdom, he decided to put the weight of responsibilities on his shoulders and work alone on his duties.

It had cost him greatly.

“You look rather pensive tonight, Prince Thorin.” Thranduil appeared from behind the doors leading the balcony, the Elven-Prince wore an elegant shirt of a deep blue and black leggings, his hair was loose but for a single braid he wore on his left side.

Thorin swallowed with his eyes unable to stay still, he furrowed his brows when his eyes caught the twitching lips of the elf the smugness he wore was evident as he stepped forward nearing the Dwarven-Prince. For a moment, the both of them stood side by side in a deep silence sharing the same thoughts of relief at the closeness they hadn’t shared in a long time. Thranduil would never admit it, and he would not give in until Thorin was capable of a satisfactory explanation. Thorin for his part was feeling foolish, he knew his traditions were not the same as the elf’s ones and perhaps what he was doing could be considered idiotic. Bofur, Bombur and Nori did make fun of him until he had shut them up in the midst of their laughter and their teasing. There was no respect for their Prince.

“You look rather stunning tonight, Prince Thranduil, I hope I’m not keeping you from any important business since I left my own important business aside to come and see you tonight.” Thorin tried to keep a serious tone, as if he was talking about the mines and nothing more interesting.

Thranduil narrowed his eyes, tilting his head to show off a half-smirk before speaking with a teasing tone, “Not to worry, Prince Thorin, King Bard is well known to be patient.”

“What?!” Thorin turned around to face Thranduil with big eyes and a shocked expression on his face, he was torn between being jealous and hurt at the sudden proclamation.

“I said King Bard is rather patient, Prince Thorin.” Thranduil faced Thorin leaning forward confronting the dwarf. 

“Are you planning on seeing him tonight?” Thorin narrowed his eyes crossing his arms.

“Since King Bard is not avoiding me, I don’t see why not.” Thranduil retorted making his way to the rail of the balcony.

Thorin pursed his lips, his right hand sneaking inside the pocket of the long, dark blue coat he decided to wear for the night. The Dwarven-Prince positioned himself right beside Thranduil, both Princes contemplated the darkened sky with the stars twinkling at them. The night was filled with the merry sound of celebration, the wind went through them caressing their skin and ruffling their hair. Thorin put a small box from his pocket, his eyes glancing at the object for a moment before turning around.

“I need some time to sort things out.” Thorin spoke softly as a way of explanation but not apology.

“I know.” Thranduil replied looking at the dwarf petulantly while crossing his arms.

Thorin felt his lips twitched upwards regarding the elf half-amused and half-guilty, “You really are not used at not getting things your way, are you?”

Thranduil quirked a brow unimpressed by Thorin’s words, the dwarf chuckled lifting the box on his hand. Thranduil eyed the box with a mixture of curiosity and hesitation, his hand twitched at his side while Thorin grabbed the elf’s right hand kissing the knuckles before placing the box on the open palm.

“There is a reason as to why I have been avoiding you.” Thorin spoke softly but firmly, Thranduil grabbed the box directing his attention to Thorin. “First, because I need to think over my duties and what was told during the council. It was not easy to take everything in, to accept the lies were necessary.”

“We will never mean any harm, Thorin. You must have known what we were doing was for the good of your Kingdom and yourself.”

“I know.” Thorin then nodded towards the box. “The second reason was this. It is a gift.”

“A gift?” Thranduil’s face lit up at the prospect, the elf eyed the box again touching the smooth surface with his fingertips with his abdomen tingling with anticipation.

“A gift. Wait.” Thorin stopped Thranduil’s fingers before they could open the box, Thranduil stared at Thorin who wore a pensive look again.

“It is a costume to make a gift to one’s betrothed.” Thorin explained. “When we give gifts, they must be done with our hands. With our hearts. I didn’t know what I could give you that I haven’t already.”

Thranduil tilted his head, his lips curling up at such declaration, “Let it never be said Dwarves cannot be clever with their tongues.”

“Are you going to tease me or are you going to let me do this right?”

Thranduil rolled his eyes, “Never mind my words, my Lord. Your moment of brilliance is over.”

“I love you.” Thorin said simply. “If I didn’t I wouldn’t take your insolence.”

“You love my insolence, dear. Admit it.” Thranduil lifted the box stepping back to prevent Thorin for stopping his movements. “Now, can I open my gift?”

Thorin waved his hand looking away with a hint of nervousness around him, Thranduil opened the box swallowing when his eyes took in the silvery form of a necklace with a small sapphire pending from a pendant made of mithril. The gem had been crafted with care giving it a smooth form, the gem twinkled teasingly while the silver gave it a form of a star.

“I try to give you a start.” Thorin chimed in clearing his throat. “In case you…didn’t get it.”

Thranduil closed the box glancing at Thorin, the Dwarven-Prince held Thranduil’s gaze for a moment before looking away.

“I will be honoured if you wear it during the coronation.” Thorin continued clenching his fist. “And, of course, if you still agreeable to the idea. I want that day for us to…formalize our union.”

The Elven-Prince felt a myriad of emotions at that very moment, his heart was fluttering wildly in his chest while his mind was clouded by thoughts of the dwarf in front of him.  Thranduil leaned in feeling complete when his lips brushed against the beard of the dwarf and their lips joined in a warm embrace. Thorin lifted his hand placing it on top of Thranduil’s face, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Both of them had missed this, the closeness and the different emotions erupting inside their minds and souls when the other was close. Thranduil lowered his hand working on Thorin’s coat but soon the hands of the dwarf stopped him.

“I think we better stop.” Thorin said through his heavy breathing, his eyes opened to see Thranduil’s blue orbs twinkling with mischief.

“I think we must find a good use to my bed.” Thranduil tried to kiss Thorin again but the dwarf stepped back shaking his head.

“No, I…tradition dictates we cannot be together.” Thorin said with his voice trembling at the end.

“Excuse me? Tradition?” Thranduil questioned with a hint of disbelief in his voice. “You weren’t thinking about tradition in Khand or in Dorwinion, were you?”

Thorin cringed when Thranduil narrowed his eyes at him, the dwarf lifted a single hand trying to placate the bad mood on the elf.

“It was different. You…with you everything is different, Thranduil.” Thorin signaled the box. “That’s why I couldn’t be near you, I want to make it right. I want to start everything right. My reign, my marriage to you…”

“And part of this is following tradition?” Thranduil inquired.

“Yes. First, was a gift from the heart, so I made you a star.” Thorin explained. “Then, it’s the union in front of your family and mine but, since I’m to be King, I decided to do it in front of Erebor and everyone else to let them know I pledge myself to you. And part of this union is the promise to remain pure before the union takes place.”

“You are not pure, Thorin. And for that matter, neither I am.”

“Oh, believe me, I know.” Thorin replied smiling wickedly at the elf, he shook his head putting on a more serious façade. “But, if we do something right now I do not believe I will want to leave this room in a long time. At least after the coronation and our wedding I will have a good excuse.”

Thranduil snorted nodding curtly, “Then, we better leave now or else I will send your traditions flying out of this balcony.”

“Leave? Where?” Thorin asked furrowing his brows, he was hoping to spend the rest of the afternoon with Thranduil in the solitude of the tower.

“To the celebration, I believe many are going to wonder where we are and I promise Bard I will hear his story of the battle.” Thranduil explained putting the box in his pocket.

“Bard? King Bard? Are you really going to see him?” Thorin questioned rather annoyed, Thranduil smirked grabbing the dwarf by his coat putting him closer.

“Of course, I did give him my word and since we are to remain pure before our formal marriage well…” Thranduil gave in his own desires, in what he had been craving since Thorin woke up. Their lips joined once again in an embrace of pure lust, Thorin felt his body tingling under the emotions put behind the kiss.

“Now, Meleth nîn, let’s go.”

Thranduil didn’t even hesitate to turn around and leave while Thorin stood there with his mouth hanging open, the Dwarven-Prince hesitated for a few moments thinking of the wisdom behind his own actions. He looked inside the room to see Thranduil was waiting for him at the door, the Dwarven-prince shook his head when he caught sight of the mischievous smirk adorning the elf’s face. Thorin snorted swearing to take his revenge once he had the elf all for himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More moments between our favorite pairing are coming ahead, as well as some important conversations between Thorin and Oropher and Bard. Next chapter is going to be coronation day, the big wedding and the new age of both Princes. 
> 
> Thank you guys for reading!


	22. The Coronation of a King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time of the Coronation is here and Thorin and Thranduil jut want a moment of privacy to finally enjoy one another before the duties of the Kingdom is brought to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, new chapter! Thank you guys for the patience, I love every single one of you for reading, liking, commenting and always being there. I do apologize though for any grammar, spelling or funny mistake you may find in here. 
> 
> For now, just enjoy!

**Chapter 22**

**The Coronation of a King**

The days were growing warmer and brighter as the reconstruction of Erebor continued.

Many had contributed to the reconstruction of the valley of Erebor and the citadel of Ravenhill, for more than three weeks everyone including the elves of Greenwood and the men of Dale had worked really hard not only on the valley but also had helped to get everything ready for the coronation. The valley and Erebor were buzzing with energy, everyone was working on something specific while the council and their Prince took over the finances and the politics of the Kingdom.  It was in such a great activity that, after a month of the battle, a great entourage of great personalities approached the mountain.

It was the first time in the history of Erebor that so many people of different races were reunited to see a Dwarf Prince be crowned King. It had been a great surprised such great personalities approached the mountain in the company of Queen Dís and her husband, all of them with the intention of support Thorin and even Prince Thranduil. Since Erebor was Kingless, the task of welcoming the honorable guests fell upon the shoulders of the council and the Prince of Erebor; while some of the entourage that came with their distinguished guests had to rest at the hillside of Erebor the most important ones were taken to different rooms inside the Royal Palace.

Thorin shifted slightly, after a tiring morning of smiling and greetings he was getting restless and only the comforting presence of Thranduil seemed to have him standing in the main hall of the palace. Lord Agamm whispered in his ear about the last group he should welcome to Erebor, Thorin snorted glaring at the old Lord for he had said the same thing a few minutes ago.

“Patience is a virtue.” Thranduil whispered in his other ear with a growing smirk on his pale features, Thorin rolled his eyes shaking his head.

“I’ll hold you to that on our wedding night.” Thorin replied smirking back when Thranduil shoot him a daring stare.

“Ahem, my Lords.” Lord Faern scowled shaking his head and soon Thorin straightened up staring at the door while Thranduil merely smirked.

The doors opened leaving Thorin out of breath, his eyes opened wide and he could only stare at the vision making her way towards him. It didn’t take long for the presents to see the last delegation of the day was the Elven one; Thorin stepped forward captivated by the apparition of a lady with her hair gleaming gold like the sun, her skin smooth and glistening with a light on her own. The she-elf smiled and the charm behind the elf was completed, the lady’s smile grew as soon as her eyes found those of the Dwarven-Prince. Thranduil soon erased the smirk from his face, he rolled his eyes stepping forward to stand beside Thorin giving a reproachful stare to Lady Galadriel.

“Prince Thorin.” Thranduil spoke loudly and clearly placing his hand on Thorin’s shoulder. “Allow me to introduce to you Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, Queen and King of the Golden Forest of Lothlórien.”

Thranduil pushed Thorin a little breaking whatever spell he was in, the Dwarven-Prince winced slightly turning to see Thranduil quirking a brow at him. Thorin cleared his throat turning to the newcomers finding the lady smiling amusedly at him, Thorin then turned to the elves with dark hair before turning to Thranduil.

“This is Lord Elrond, Lord of Imladris the Last Homely House East of the Sea.” Thranduil continued staring at Elrond before turning to the twins and the young maiden beside them. “And these are his children, Elladan and Elrohir, and Lady Arwen.”

“I must say, Prince Thorin, you have your grandfather’s bearing.” It was Lady Galadriel the first one to speak after the introductions, the lady smiled with her eyes gleaming mischievously. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Thorin Oakenshield.”

“Lady Galadriel, if I have been told before of your great beauty then I would have approached the Golden Forest a long time ago.” Thorin replied bowing slightly.

Elrond and Celeborn both lifted their eyebrows while Thranduil could only roll his eyes before glaring at his son who was covering his mouth to hide away his laughter. Glorfindel smirked looking away before Thorin cleared his throat again, he found Galadriel staring at him amusedly but not upset by his words.

“Careful, Brother, “A voiced said from behind them and Thorin shook his head to see Dís approaching him smiling. “Lady Galadriel over here is happily married already and you have someone who will surely skin you alive for your audacity.”

“Dís!” Thorin stepped forward breaking all protocol to approach his sister and engulfed her in a tight hug.

Dís hugged her brother back feeling all the tension he had accumulated in the last month, she chuckled while Thorin put her at arm’s length eyeing her with curiosity.

“No one told me you have already gotten here.” Thorin commented, but before Dís could answer a bundle of blue and yellow wrapped his arms around Thorin’s legs screaming into the room.

“UNCLE!” Fíli looked up laughing in delight when Thorin lifted him up in the air.

“FÍLI!”

Fíli lifted his face and his eyes soon lit up, he wriggled out of his uncle’s hold running towards the place where Legolas had been standing up.

“Legolas!”

“He hasn’t shut up about Prince Legolas since they left Erebor a few months ago.” Víli, Dís husband came from behind the she-dwarf smiling broadly at Thorin. “Prince Thorin, it is good to see you again.”

“King Víli, the pleasure is mine.” Thorin replied smiling, the Prince then turned to everyone else. “It is a pleasure to have you all here, welcome my honorable guests to the Kingdom of Erebor.”

*****

“So, you seem to be very charmed by Lady Galadriel.” Thranduil commented lightly while enjoying his afternoon tea at the balcony in his room.

Thorin smiled eyeing the elf before nodding, “She is quite beautiful.”

Thranduil leaned back taking a sip from his cup, placing his free hand on the armrest. The afternoon was falling with a mixture of purple and blue, the stars were already twinkling merrily in the sky while the wind became fresh instead of cold. The nights just like the days were becoming warmer as the days passed and summer approached.

“Are you jealous?” Thorin finally asked leaning forward and seeking with his eyes those blue orbs of the elf sitting before him.

“Should I be?” Thranduil retorted placing his cup on the table, Thorin tilted his head lifting his hand to caress the side of Thranduil’s face.

“Perhaps.” Thorin chuckled enjoying the force and need behind Thranduil’s kiss.

Thranduil kissed him like a thirsty elf, his hand embraced the nape of Thorin’s neck while he brought him closer. Every time their lips joined it felt like a thousand jolts of electricity traveling from their lips to the rest of their bodies; Thorin would usually let Thranduil guide them into the kiss until he felt his desire growing out of control. It was then when he stopped, pushing Thranduil away with gentleness fighting against the pleadingly stare the elf usually gave him.

“You’re going to be the dead of me.” Thranduil whispered placing his forehead against Thorin’s one.

“ _Amrâl_ , patience is a virtue.” Thorin chuckled before the look of horror Thranduil gave him.

His laughter died soon enough when Thranduil pulled him out of the chair making him fall on the ground. The Elven-Prince sat back against his chair smirking smugly at the now fallen Prince, Thorin was about to speak when he was attacked by a big wolf and his nephew. Legolas appeared from the portal smiling widely while Thorin tried to fight off Fíli and Beleg; the young Elven-prince approached watching Fíli laughing loudly when Thorin grabbed him turning him around tickling him with Beleg licking his face.

“I hope I was not interrupting anything of importance.” Legolas eyed his father then back at Thorin, the Dwarven-Prince sat down watching as Fíli kept playing with Beleg.

“Oh, no, you didn’t. Nothing of importance was happening.” Thranduil stared at his son before turning his eyes to Thorin. “I believe nothing of importance is going to happen anytime soon.”

Thorin rolled his eyes while Legolas put his arms up waving his hands away.

“Please, do not say such things, Father. I believe I can live long enough without knowing the details of your intimate life with Thorin.”

“There is no intimate life, and I believe that’s why he is so ill-tempered lately.” Thorin stood up standing beside Legolas who gave him a mortified stare, Thranduil narrowed his eyes before looking away.

The rest of the afternoon was spent with Fíli babbling about his travels and all the imaginary adventures he had in between, always trying to catch Legolas’ attention while the young elf would smile indulgently always asking to know more. From time to time, Legolas would looked up to see his father and Prince Thorin speaking or watching them and it was in those moments he felt grateful to the fact Thorin knew about his parentage. It made it easier to seek affection from his father without fearing the reaction of the Dwarven-Prince. Legolas sat in front of his father allowing the Elven-Prince to braid his hair while Fíli sneaked a curious glance at this, Thorin was scratching the back of Beleg’s ear making the wolf leaned forward against the touch. The night arrived with Thranduil resting against Thorin both of them engaged in silly conversation and constant arguing, always battling to be right while Legolas would observed them rolling his eyes amusedly.

Thorin turned around to see Legolas watching them with Fíli sleeping peacefully on his arms, for a brief moment the Dwarven-Prince had a thought of the future wondering if this was what the future held for him. Thorin smiled imagining a little child looking more like Thranduil than himself, sleeping in his half-brother’s arms after an afternoon of full activity. Thorin sighed when he felt a pair of lips kissing him tenderly on his forehead.

“Don’t go ahead of yourself, Thorin.” Thranduil whispered but his voice held a hint of tremor and fear in it.

“Why not?” Thorin stared into Thranduil’s eyes discovering there was fear in them, the dwarf furrowed his brows in confusion. “Don’t you think about it?”

“Sometimes.” Thranduil replied. “Let’s worry about your coronation tomorrow, then we can worry about building a family.”

“We’re already a family.” Thorin replied as if it was obvious. “We just need to expand it.”

Thranduil blinked a little with a hint of disbelief in his eyes, the elf snorted shaking his head before leaning back.

“Sometimes you surprised me in ways I find it impossible to not fall in love with you again.” Thranduil stood up ignoring the confusing frown from Thorin. “I believe Dís told you she wanted to talk to you.”

“She did, but I should take Fíli back to his room first.” Thorin stood behind Thranduil still wondering what he had said to make Thranduil so happy all of a sudden.

“Leave him with us, we shall take him to his chambers.” Thranduil nodded to the door. “Go, she must be waiting for you.”

Thorin bowed winking at Thranduil before saying good-bye to Legolas. Legolas stared at his father shaking his head with amusement.

“Did it ever occur to you this would be like this?” Legolas questioned standing up while carrying Fíli in his arms.

Thranduil tilted his head caressing his son’s head with tenderness, his lips curled up for a moment before he shook his head.

“Never.”

Legolas hesitated for a moment before speaking again, “Did you feel like this with father as well?”

Thranduil stopped dead on his tracks, he turned to Legolas to see what the young elf was thinking or even feeling, but Legolas seemed genuinely curious. The Elven-Prince remained silent for such a long time Legolas was about to apologize for his impertinence; Thranduil led his son inside the room indicating with his gestures for Legolas to follow him to the chambers where Fíli would be resting.

“It was different.” Thranduil finally spoke and his voice was filled with memory. “I loved him differently, and our love made you possible. However, it never felt the way it did with Thorin, I never felt this _connect_ with him.”

Legolas remained silent for a moment, they walked down the hall leading to the royal rooms where Dís and her husband Víli were resting. Thranduil turned to Legolas and stopped him before they could enter the room, the Elven-Prince placed his hands on Legolas shoulders with a concern glint in his eyes.

“Are you all right with this?”

Legolas lifted his face to his father smiling broadly at him, “I have never seen you this happy. I have never felt you this content or relax. I’m happy for you, father. I really am.”

Thranduil nodded giving his son a brief hug, the Elven-Prince lowered his gaze to Fíli who snuggled closer to Legolas.

“Come, we should let him rest on his bed. Tomorrow is going to be a great day.”

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

The catacombs of Erebor were highly known for their warm atmosphere.

The burial site had been planned to home the many inhabitants of the mountain who had passed away, it was built as a series of maze-like tunnels and rooms leading to the final resting place for different families or the different clans inhabiting Erebor. The place was decorated with different paintings narrating the path followed by the death who were ready to join with Mahal, it told the story of the world beyond the mountains where every single soul of the Dwarrows would finally unite to the re-birth of the world. These were the stories with which Thorin and Dís grew up, when they were younger and the Lore-Master of the Royal house took them to their first class about the history of the Mountain.

Like many other Kings and Queens of Erebor before him, King Thráin had been buried in the Royal Mausoleum. This was a great construction located in the middle of a valley of high tombstones, the last of the rooms had been fixed to be the resting place of King Thráin and it had been decorated with the necessary paraphernalia to honor the memory of the King. The room had been decorated modestly, and the coffin was crafted with the image of the King engraved on the surface showing a more peaceful and well-rested dwarf. The room had been illuminate with yellow, flickering torches positioned in a safe zone with a feeding source of oil that would keep them lit until the end of times.

Dís stepped forward; her eyes took in the room with a critic eye. She could read the many words written around the walls, the different stories told by a series of images only those knowledgeable in Khuzdûl would understand. The Queen of Ered Luin frowned deeply when her eyes fell upon the story telling the heroic acts of her father moments before his death; Dís let her fingertips caressed the smooth surface of the coffin, enjoying the sensation of the warm marble under her fingertips.

“How did he really die?” Dís finally asked still focusing her attention on the wall in front of her.

The she-dwarf turned around to face her brother, Thorin Oakenshield shifted slightly approaching his sister slowly. The silence in the room was deafening and it was only broken when Thorin spoke with his deep, serious voice. Thorin told her everything, as it was his costume whenever Dís asked for explanations. Thorin might have been the oldest one but Dís had always been the more sensible one, she had always been the voice of reason. The story went from the Lands of Khand to the Kingdom of Dorwinion mingled with the different attacks and treason along the way, Thorin told Dís what happened when they got the Erebor what had happened before the battle and what Thorin himself had to do in the midst of the war. By the end of the narration, Dís was left speechless for a moment, her brows deeply furrowed while she thought about everything Thorin had just revealed to her. In the end, Dís approached her brother noticing the forlorn expression he wore, she placed her hands on his shoulders offering a half-smile.

“My dear brother, you cannot blame yourself for this.” Dís shook her head glancing directly into Thorin’s eyes, the Prince went to speak but Dís quirked a brow silencing him before he could even speak. “I know you; I know you have been blaming yourself for this and whatever else is happening around Erebor. But, it is not your fault, father sought out his own destiny and you have nothing to do with this.”

 Thorin gave Dís a half-smile letting out a tired sigh, “I know. It is difficult to not do so, though.”

At this, Thorin stepped back putting his hand inside his coat, “Father had been acting strangely for quite some time. His ambition had grown; he became colder and uninterested in his people, in Erebor. I know he never cared for me, but he had always loved Erebor, had always thought of making it great all over again.”

“That’s true.” Dís conceded eyeing her brother with curiosity, Thorin approached the coffin while putting something from his coat. “But, gold sickness is a ruthless malady, Thorin.”

“So I’ve heard. However, I’m inclined to believe something else happen.” At this, Thorin opened his hand showing two different rings.

Dís leaned forward identifying the ring of the House of Durin, the most important legacy of her family. However, the second one was unknown to her, the black silver and the strange gem and symbol was not something she seemed very familiar with. The Queen of Ered Luin lifted her eyes to see the calculating stare on her brother’s eyes.

“I took these rings from father’s body before he was taken away.” Thorin placed the rings on the coffin crossing his arms. “One of them is mine by right, the other one it is not. Yet, I thought it was wise to take it with me, this was a gift from Dol-Guldur which couldn’t mean something good.”

“A gift from them is indeed an accursed one.” Dís eyed the rings with mistrust, she studied it without daring to touch it. Her concentration was broken when she caught sight of something brighter gleaming out of the corner of her eyes. “What is that?”

Dís turned completely watching the gem Thorin had on his hand with care, she felt an immediate attraction to the jewel something growing in her filled with desire to touch and, perhaps to possess it. Thorin furrowed his brows while placing the stone right beside the rings, Dís sighed wrapping her arms around her body shaking her head.

“Father called it the Arkenstone.” Thorin pursed his lips tearing his eyes away from the stone to stare into his sister’s eyes. “He called it a divine sign of his right to rule.”

Silence took over the room, there was no wind or any other source of life but the soft breathing coming from the two siblings. Dís eyed her brother with a calculating stare, she could see he was tensed with worry and anxiety marking his features. The she-dwarf softened her expression knowing too well this was a sign her brother was preoccupied with something else, she approached him cupping Thorin’s left cheek with tenderness to which the Dwarven-Prince answered with a gentle smile.

“What is it?” Dís asked making the smile grow and those dark eyes looked away for a moment.

“Dark things happened in our home, Dís. Things we didn’t know were a threat to us, to the mountain.” Thorin hesitated before speaking again. “Do you remember the story we use to read back in the archives? The one Frerin found while trying to hide from father?”

Dís furrowed her brows for a second focusing on her memories of her childhood, it took her a moment before her face broke in a deep understanding. Dís turned to the gem grabbing it with one hand while shaking her head in wonderment.

“It cannot be.” She turned to her brother still trying to grasp the implications of what Thorin was implying. “It cannot be, Thorin. The legends said the stone was lost forever.”

“Was it?” Thorin replied arching a brow. “The legends said Dwarves and Elves didn’t know what happened with the stone, a lot of stories were born out of this uncertainty but the truth was no one knew what the fate of the stone was after the Fall of Doriath.”

Thorin pursed her lips before continuing, “I did my research again, I went back to the archives and discovered some of the descriptions about the stone. They matched.”

Dís made a face while placing the stone back on the coffin, something about the ring and the stone made her apprehensive.

“You haven’t told him, have you?” Dís inquired to which Thorin merely shrugged shaking his head.

“No, I wouldn’t even know how to start a conversation like this one.”

“And, he hasn’t recognised it yet?”

“No, in the midst of events I bet he didn’t have the time to think or even considered the stone.” Thorin rested his weight on the coffin. “No, I know Thranduil doesn’t know a thing about this stone.”

Dís understood then why her brother had been so apprehensive, she smiled gently at him before speaking again.

“He loves you. I could not believe it until I saw him today, by your side welcoming everyone.” Dís watched as Thorin relaxed with his lips curling slightly. “I’m happy you found someone to love you and someone you love so very much. I knew it was a matter of time before you found your One.”

Thorin snorted shaking his head, “I don’t know about that, but I admit I have never felt this for anyone.”

This time around when silence fell between them it was not heavy with uncertainty or anxiousness, the two siblings returned their attention back to the coffin of their father with his face crafted in an eternal peaceful and regal façade. Dís grabbed the ring of Durin putting it inside Thorin’s right hand with determination on her face.

“Tomorrow you will wear this, Thorin. Wear it with pride and humility.”

“Sometimes I forget I’m the older of the two.” Thorin commented lightly to which Dís merely smirked.

“You’re the oldest I’m the wisest.” Then the Queen of Ered Luin signalled the other ring and the stone. “After the coronation, we will need to speak with Gandalf. I’m still worried about this man send by Dol-Guldur and about this ring. There is something strange about all of this and perhaps Gandalf can give us guidance.”

“We will, I am worried about this situation. It wouldn’t be bad to get some advice for the old man.” Thorin put the ring and the stone inside his pocket again. “Now, let’s go back, I believe we are being missed.”

 

The sun broke into the sky in the midst of many people working around inside and outside Erebor.

Bilbo Baggins barked orders left and right to the dwarves in charge of the food and the drinks, from time to time he would hit Bombur and Bofur with his wooden spoon glaring at them when the two dwarves tried to steal some of the pastries or the different dishes that were to be shared with the inhabitants of Erebor and the guests after the coronation.

“It’s just a little…”

“No!” Bilbo narrowed his eyes pointing to the door. “I already gave you one, Bombur. Go and help everyone else and send me someone who is not going to eat half the dishes we’re working on.”

“Damn, he is bossy.” Bofur commented to a saddened Bombur, both of them decided to be more productive in the main hall where Balin was helping around with the chairs and everything else. “What can we do to help, Balin?”

Balin lifted a brow shaking his head, “Bilbo throw you out as well?”

Bombur nodded and Bofur shrugged, “He just don’t appreciate us helping around.”

“I bet.” Balin rolled his eyes pointing at the throne. “You can go over there and help position the throne for Thorin to sit in. I believe this is the last detail before everyone starts filling the hall.”

The great hall in which the ceremony was to take place was being filled with different chairs to host the honourable guests that had come to attend the coronation. While all of Erebor was invited and many would get a chance to see their new King, the Great hall could only host no more than five hundred people in it thus not all of the inhabitants of Erebor and other lands would be able to enter the place. However, everyone was invited to the great celebration and the feast and this was what everyone was waiting for.

Thorin’s companions were the ones taking care of the last details while the rest of the council were getting ready to attend the ceremony. This would not only be the moment in which Thorin would take over Erebor as a King, it would also be the moment in which he would join in marriage with the Prince of the Woodland Realm. It was going to be a historical moment and everyone was waiting anxiously to see what the future held for all of them.

*****

Thorin Oakenshield stopped dead on his tracks as soon as he entered his room.

The Dwarven-Prince found himself right in front of the Elven-King, the King was looking like an illusion of ice and gleaming with light. His hair was a mixture of gold and silver and his eyes didn’t hold the same brightness Thranduil had in his. Thorin stared into the eyes of the King and he soon realized he could not read them the same way he could Thranduil’s, the only thing the dwarf could see behind the elf’s eyes was age and memories.

The Dwarven-Prince closed the door behind him looking around the room before resting his eyes on the form of the Elven-King. Oropher quirked a brow passing around the room until he stopped right in front of the ceremonial armour Thorin was to wear for his coronation.

“I remembered the first time King Durín wore this armour.” Oropher commented admiring the clever crafting of the armour. “He was just as nervous and hesitant as you are right now. He didn’t think himself capable of guiding such a great Kingdom.”

Thorin tensed with his chest puffing out and his shoulders moving back taking a defensive stance in front of the elf. Oropher faced Thorin with his hands behind his back and a contemplative stare on his eyes. Silence filled the room, a silence only broken by the people working right outside the Prince’s room.

“When I made the deal with your father, it was made in defence of my people.” Oropher spoke again in an easy tone his eyes pinning Thorin to the spot he was standing in. “King Thráin threatened with great damage if I did not offer him in exchanged something of great value.”

“So, you offer Thranduil? You offer your own son?” Thorin replied clenching his fists narrowing his eyes at the King. “You were hoping to govern in Erebor and your own Kingdom once my father had died, did you not?”

Oropher pursed his lips, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous light in them, “Wrong.”

Thorin crossed his arms tilting his head at the King, “Don’t lie to me, your Majesty.”

“I’m not.” Oropher offered a half-smile while approaching the dwarf. “Of course I thought of getting my hands on the Dwarven Kingdom, who wouldn’t? But I wasn’t the only one thinking about this.” Oropher stopped five steps away from Thorin. “Your father thought of this as well, and I bet his thoughts were less innocent than mine.”

Thorin didn’t say anything, he merely looked away knowing King Oropher was right. His father was already making great plans of slavery and dominion if he were to have his hands on the Elven Kingdom. Oropher shook his head changing the expression on his face while eyeing the Dwarven-Prince in front of him.

“If I were to be honest with you, Prince Thorin, it was your father the one to propose the marriage between our races.” King Oropher made a face and Thorin had the suspicion the King was remembering something unpleasant. “It was him who propose the union through my son, he was the first one to mention only an heir of dwarven and elven blood should be able to govern both Kingdoms as one.”

Thorin furrowed his brows lowering his guard slightly, he eyed the elf in front of him with something unpleasant moving inside him. Thorin had known his father, but this part of the deal he never heard of.

“What happened, King Oropher?” Thorin questioned and the King turned to him with a serious expression.

“It was me the one who insisted if an heir should be produced, it should have been born as the product of the marriage between you and my son, Prince Thorin.” Oropher took another stepped forward making sure his words could only be heard by Thorin, even though the room was completely empty. “Thráin was ready to break the Dwarven tradition to marry my son, he was already thinking of producing an heir with him. I was not about to let him do that.”

Oropher took a deep breath straightening himself up before continuing, “Your father had become reckless and paranoid. When I told him this, he acceded with great difficulty. This was the day of Durín, the same day we told the both of you about the deal.”

Thorin shook his head while he tried to grasp the revelations Oropher just offered him, the King awaited until Thorin was ready to speak again.

“Why are you telling me this? Why would you do that for Thranduil?”

Oropher furrowed his brows slightly offended by the question, “Because, regardless of my reservation regarding dwarves, Prince Thorin. I knew _you_ would protect my son. Love or not love, I knew you would have never done the vicious things your father was capable of doing Thranduil. Like Lady Galadriel said, you have your grandfather’s bearing, I have no reason to doubt your honourability. Besides, you didn’t seem to like my son that much.”

 At this last part, Thorin made a face waving away before speaking, “He was not very pleasant on our first meeting.”

“Indeed. I know you do like my son very much, Prince Thorin.” Oropher continued eyeing the dwarf again. “I love my son, Thorin. Whether we agree or not, I love him. I want him to be happy. I expect you to protect him, to offer him happiness and love.”

“I love him.” Thorin replied with honesty, King Oropher nodded offering a small smile to the Prince.

“I know.” Oropher moved past Thorin and, before leaving he turned around. “One last thing, Thranduil must never find out about this conversation.”

“He won’t, I promise.” Thorin eyed the King who stood there with his face lowered, when Oropher turned to Thorin the Dwarven-Prince could see how much alike Thranduil and Oropher were when they wore content expressions on their faces.

“Do I have your word you will do anything in your power to protect and love my son and grandson?”

This declaration shocked Thorin, but the dwarf nodded, “You have my word.”

“Good.” And with this the King left leaving Thorin alone in his room to get ready for the coronation.

*****

Glorfindel tilted his head, his eyes danced around in wonderment while his lips started curling up in laughter. Dís was standing beside him nodding her head firmly while circling the Elven-Prince with a critic eye, Thranduil from his part was scowling deeply at his reflection.

“You look _strange_.” Legolas was the first one breaking the silence, the young elf was torn between being amused and cautious about his father’s appearance.

“I think it suits him.” Dís commented standing beside Thranduil watching the elf’s reflection on the mirror.

“Of course you do, this is a dwarven armour.” Thranduil rolled his eyes before settling his stare on himself. “I think I look ridiculous.”

 “I wouldn’t say ridiculous…” Glorfindel chimed in trailing off when Thranduil glared at him.

“You don’t look ridiculous. Stop fussing around, it is not a big deal and Thorin will love it.” Dís stepped back moving towards the table grabbing the necklace Thorin had given to Thranduil a few days ago.

“Will he wear something made in elvish style?” Thranduil retorted turning to Dís before grabbing the necklace.

“I don’t know what kind of games you two play alone in the dark in the privacy of your room, but for this ceremony it was you the one who ask for something proper for this.” Dís added rolling her eyes, her comment made Glorfindel laugh without reservation and Legolas put on a face of horror at the thought of any kind of game between his father and Thorin.

“When I said proper, Queen Dís, I wasn’t talking about you dressing me like a dwarf.” Thranduil replied. “Where did you find this anyway? I didn’t know you have armours to suit someone like me.”

Dís pursed her lips shaking her head, “I didn’t either. This was the first time I saw this armour and it looked as if it was arranged a little. But, it suits you, it is dark blue with silver and it matches your eyes.”

Thranduil nodded curtly still admiring his image on the mirror.

When he had asked for a more traditional clothing for the coronation he never imagined it was going to be something like this. Balin had grinned nodding in approval while Lord Faern had beamed in approval, they had told Thranduil to leave the details to them and it wasn’t until Dís arrived that the work had been done. They presented Thranduil with an armour made of blue and silver steel, the chest piece moulded perfectly to the Prince’s chest without the heavy sensation of having heavy metal on his body. If anything, the armour felt comfortable and light with the shoulders guards and the boots making it easy to move around. Thranduil decided to wear black leggings and black shirt under it while Queen Dís had provided him with a dark blue cloak to fix on his shoulder guards that would fall all the way down to the floor. Thranduil had fix his hair with a single braid on his left side and the circlet of the Prince of Greenwood positioned on his forehead. The Elven-Prince was ready for the coronation.

Dís smiled in approval with Legolas and Glorfindel still smiling with amusement, Thranduil sighed quirking a brow.

“I believe we are ready.” Glorfindel finally said placing his hand on Legolas forearm, Legolas turned to his master nodding briefly before approaching his father.

“Go, I’ll see you once the ceremony starts.” Thranduil whispered placing his hand on Legolas’ neck and placing a soft kiss on his forehead. Legolas smiled walking backward before leaving his father alone in the room with Dís.

“So, now that we’re alone, are you going to threaten me or something like that?” Thranduil inquired facing Dís who smirked.

“Something like that, yes.” Dís fixed the wrinkles on her dress, the Queen then lifted her face with a serious expression. “A lot has happened in the last months.”

Thranduil nodded placing his hand on the hilt of his sword, “True, I believe we’re still trying to understand some of it.”

Dís smiled gently then, “I can see you and my brother are working on understanding each other deeply.”

Thranduil rolled his eyes hating the fact his cheeks were warming up and turning red, Dís lifted single eyebrow shaking her head.

“I never thought you would go for it.” Dís continued with honesty in her voice. “I knew my brother had been intrigued by you, whether it was because of a good reason or not I knew he was going to unveiled the mystery behind you.”

“I didn’t know that.” Thranduil commented. “I never thought it would end the way it did.”

“Of course, I don’t think anyone did.” Dís approached Thranduil placing her hand on top of Thranduil’s one, the Elven-Prince stared at Dís and for a brief moment he realized she had the same eyes as her brother. Deep and full of emotion.

“I love Thorin, I’ve been by his side in the good and the bad. He is the best big brother anyone can ask for.” Dís squeezed the elf’s hand lightly offering the Prince a gentle smile. “Protect him, please. Love him and promise me you will make him happy, he deserves it.”

“He does.” Thranduil lowered his gaze a little, he felt strange all of a sudden watching his and Dís hands joined for a brief moment.

The Elven-Prince wished he could tell Dís he would never do anything to harm Thorin, Thranduil wished he could always make Thorin happy but he couldn’t see beyond the present. He was still unsure sometimes of what would happen to them, the recent events had brought back some unpleasant memories and some unwanted realities. Evil was lurking back in the world and Thranduil remembered the darkest time of Middle Earth and all the lives lost during the War of the Ring. Thranduil lifted his eyes to see Dís watching him intently, he offered a short bow of his head swallowing down his own doubts.

“You have my word, I’ll do anything to make him happy.”

“I know you will.” Dís smiled back at the elf. “He will do the same, you know? He will be very annoying at first but, eventually, you will learn to deal with his idiotic heroics and his noble nature.”

“Hn, of course, I’m not about to let him be all noble and selfless without making sure he knows sometimes there is no need for it, that the both of us can wear the weight of the troubles ahead.”

“Good, it’s good to know there is going to be a voice of reason in this relationship.” Dís smirked while Thranduil snorted, the Queen of Ered Luin eyed Thranduil one last time before pointing the door. “Now, let’s go, the coronation is about to start.”

* * *

* * *

* * *

  

The Great Hall was decorated with banners of House of Durín.

The room was buzzing with excitement as the guests and the more prominent clans of Erebor got ready to receive their future King. The throne had been placed atop a platform so everyone could see Thorin when it was time for him to sit there. Balin and the heads of the council were standing to the left and the right side of the chair with the crown of Erebor resting on the chair; Dís placed Fíli on her husband’s lap taking a few steps until she stood in front of the throne. It was customary for the right hand of the King to give the crown to the new King; however, since Lord Fundin had died during the battle it had been decided Lord Faern and Queen Dís would be the ones giving the crown to Prince Thorin.

The room went silent when the doors at the back opened up and two lines of soldiers came in forming an honorary path. Thorin swallowed down advancing slowly but surely towards the throne, he knew the eyes of all the presents were on him. He could feel every heavy stare attentive to his every footstep, to his right Dwalin was walking with his chin lift and his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, to his left Captain Farin walked with pride and solemnly guiding their Prince to the council.

Suddenly the sound of drums filled the room, it started slowly a simple tapping creating the sensation of a hundredth hammers hitting on hard steel. As Thorin approached the platform the sound grew in intensity, Dís locked her eyes with her brother offering the ghost of a comforting smile while the Dwarven-Prince felt the invisible embrace of his lover deep inside his soul. Thorin didn’t need to look hard to find Thranduil in the midst of the crowed hall, their eyes met for a brief second and this was enough to make Thorin walked faster with his head lifted to the ceiling and determination written on his features. Just as he reached the stairs leading to the stage the melodic sound of flutes joined the drums, this time it was not only the hammers hitting the steel but also the chisel giving it form and craving a new history. The Dwarrows were all looking ahead of them solemnly, many of them were filled with the memories of the forges and the mines, and the hardworking hours many of them spend working on the mountain. They were the only ones understanding the beauty behind the rough melody, whereas the elves and the men attending the celebrations seemed rather captivated in a strange magic they could not comprehend.

Thorin Oakenshield stood before his sister, his back to the presents and his body standing before the throne. Lord Faern stepped forward approaching the throne and, as his hands took the crown on their hands, all music stopped as abruptly as it had started.

Dís took a step forward taking in the regal form of her brother, she couldn’t help but be remained of the little boy she had ran off through Erebor when they were kids. The big brother that protected her and Feren from the oldest kids, the one who led them into many troubles and yet always knew how to get them out. Dís admired her big brother, wearing the black and gold armour of Durín with the symbol of House of Durín hanging from the banner tied to his hips. A dark blue banner with an anvil and a hammer embroidery with silver thread and seven stars making a circle around it. His beard was completely flawless bread with seven different patterns all representing the Seven Dwarven Kingdoms. On his head was the crown of the Prince, the same crown their father, grandfather and his father before him had worn once. Thorin flickered his eyes to the side trying to get a glimpse of those blue eyes of the elf he knew was watching him with intensity, Dís tried to hide away her smile while lifting her right arm.

“Disaster has strike our Kingdom.” She started speaking with an unwavering voice, her tone was firm and full of command and her eyes hardened while she took in all the presents in the hall. “War and treason came to our doors and tried to take apart the Kingdom our forefathers left in our hands a long time ago.”

Lord Faern stepped forward with the Crown visible for everyone to see, Thorin took another step forward lowering his head while placing his left hand on top of the hilt of his sword.

“While we lost a beloved King, we gain another amazing one.” Dís placed her right hand on top of Thorin’s shoulder while staring at everyone. “My grandfather saw in him what many of you have already seen before. He is brave and selfless, his hands are capable of crafting arts and wielding a weapon to protect the Kingdom.”

The council took a step forward while Thorin was turned around by his sister, it was at this moment Thorin was capable of watching the many faces attending the celebration. He felt a curious emptiness on his stomach, his arms were twinkling funnily while he sought out familiar faces in the crow. He could see every single one of his friends, those who had played with him since he was but a kid all of them watching at him with admiration and affection. He could see Bilbo grinning like a fool while wearing the mithril shirt he had giving him a long time ago. He could see Dwalin wearing the armour of the Royal Guard along with Captain Farin; finally as his eyes took in the forms of men and elves, he settle his dark eyes on the ones he had been looking for since he entered the room. Blue eyes sparkled with emotion while soft lips curled in a happy smile, Thorin was tempted to return the smile but he remained impassive while he allowed himself the soft touch of Thranduil’s essence. Like many times before, Thorin enjoyed the connection they had created during their travel in Dorwinion, he sought out their link feeling as his heart missed a beat at the sheer emotion he could feel behind their link.

“As one of the last surviving members of House of Durín, I recognized Thorin Oakenshield, my brother, my kin, as the rightful King of Erebor.” Dís voice resounded all through the hall, Thorin felt a shiver ran through his back his hand clenched tightly around the hilt of his sword.

Dís pointed her left arm to Lord Faern, the old dwarf took a step closer to Thorin lifting his arms while presenting the crown to the Prince. “Do you agree with me Head of the Council, Lord Faern?”

“I, Lord Faern, and head of the council of Erebor and as a representative of heads of the different clans inhabiting Erebor recognized Prince Thorin Oakenshield as the rightful King of Erebor.” Lord Faern announced just as loudly and firmly as Dís. “Do you, Prince Thorin Oakenshield, accept this responsibility?”

Thorin lowered his eyes before lifting his head, “I do.”

“Then kneel and accept the weight of the crown of Erebor on your head.”

Thorin was tempted to purse his lips, he really didn’t like this whole idea of kneeling even though he knew it was necessary. He remembered his grandfather telling him a King was first and furthermost a server of the Kingdom, no King should be selfish not should he think himself above his subjects; a King was given power to protect his people, to make them prosper and happy. Thorin sighed kneeling down, with one leg to the ground and the other holding his right arm.

Lord Faern stared down at Thorin before presenting the crown to Dís, the Queen of Ered Luin grabbed it with both hands before placing it on top of Thorin’s head.  Thorin felt the weight of the crown on his head, his legs trembled slightly as he stood up very slowly.

“Sigin akyul id-Uzbad!” Lord Faern screamed, this time around it was him the one kneeling down.

“Sigin akyul id-Uzbad!” The rest of the council and the Dwarven crowed screamed as one all of them kneeling down before their new King.

Thorin looked out of the corner of his eye to see Dís, the elves and the group of men bowing at him as well with the drums and the flutes playing again. Thorin lifted his right arm placing it on top of the chest piece while bowing slightly to the rest of the crow, he straightened up at the same time as everyone did and all of them had their eyes on him.

“I will try my very best to carry on with the duty of protecting and leading the great Kingdom of Erebor, to protect his people and to keep my word and vows to them and to our allies.” Thorin spoke clearly and firmly, without any hint of doubt on his voice. For the very first moment he did so, there was power behind his words and his bearing was that of a fine leader. His eyes gleamed with a strange comforting light while his right hand moved to reinforce his words.

“However, this cannot be while I sit alone on the throne.” Thorin softened considerably, his stiffened body relax all of a sudden as he turned to face the Elven-Prince of the Woodland Realm. “Some time ago, my Father promised me in marriage to the Prince of the Woodland Realm, today I stand before them as the new King of Erebor and ask respectfully to both, King Oropher and Prince Thranduil, if this arrangement is still of their liking.”

Lord Faern furrowed his brows a little, he turned to the rest of the council to see only two of them seemed completely displeased before this act. When Lord Faern turned to Queen Dís the she-dwarf was smiling broadly at her brother, Lord Faern stared at Thorin trying to understand the affection emanating from his new King towards the elf.

Thranduil stood frozen in place his eyes found those of Thorin and he knew this was the moment they had been waiting for. The moment he had dread on their first encounter and something they had already sealed in the deserts of Dorwinion. King Oropher stepped forward making his way towards Thorin with Prince Thranduil and Prince Legolas following him close behind. Thorin faced the King of the Woodland Realm aware of the attention they were receiving at the moment.

“It would be my honour and that of my people if our Kingdoms, our races, could finally join in a bond stronger than alliance.” King Oropher spoke not only to Thorin and the council but also to all the presents. “I believe it is about time we leave all resentment and bad memories in the past and start forging a new future. It would be my honour, King Thorin, if you are to take my son as your husband and fellow King to both our Kingdoms as long as he is agreeable to this.”

“I am.” Thranduil replied firmly looking from his father to Thorin.

Oropher nodded firmly grabbing his son’s right hand in his, “Then, my son, by all means, be happy. For now you will be King and you will stand side by side with King Thorin to govern not one but two Kingdoms until the time of a child born out of your union can united them as a single Kingdom.”

Thranduil glanced at his father with certain surprise behind his eyes, the King smiled again taking Thranduil’s right hand forward. Thranduil bowed his head to his father while looking over at Thorin, the Dwarven-King admired the sight before him as he stepped forward presenting his right hand to the elf. Thranduil snorted trying to hide his nervousness as his father placed his hand under Thorin’s one, he clasped their hands together stepping back leaving Thorin and Thranduil in front of one another holding their right hands together. Thorin smiled broadly then, not caring who was looking or what anyone else could say. He brought the elf’s hand to his lips placing a soft kiss on those knuckles before tilting his head towards Balin and Lord Faern. The head of the council and Balin both straightened up and went directly to their King and the Prince of the Woodland Realm. Oropher then turned to Legolas nodding to the young elf until he stood right beside Balin putting a wooden box out of his clothing at the same time Balin put a wooden box from his, both of them opened the wooden box at the same time many of the Dwarrows present gasp in shock at this. Lord Faern quirked a brow at the elf, his eyes went from Legolas to Oropher then to Balin and Dís.

“I see my Lord came prepare, both of you.” Lord Faern commented in a whisper with the right amount of humour in his voice.

“Everyone was here already, I didn’t see any trouble into finally be formally bound to Thranduil.” Thorin replied feeling his cheeks burn under the knowing stare of his sister, Lord Faern, Balin and even King Oropher. “Let’s get this over with.”

“So romantic.” Thranduil replied with a half-smirk adorning his features, Thorin shook his head promising with his eyes a sweet revenge.

Lord Faern cleared his throat and his voice lifted above the Great Hall carrying his words in Khuzdûl, many of the presents watched the scene with wonderment with the full knowledge this was an historic moment. Never before in all the ages of the world had an elf and dwarf joined their lives in such a deep bound; curious eyes examined the couple finding nothing but sincerity behind every gesture, every look and every touch. While some of the Men didn’t understood a word of what was being said, some of the Elves were smiling or even admiring the ceremony unfolding before their eyes.

Lord Faern was soon joined by Balin, then by Dís and finally by Legolas, the three of them reciting the sacred vows of the bounding ritual while speaking of the duty of each partner. Thranduil opened his eyes in shock hearing as Legolas spoke in Khuzdûl, the Elven-Prince returned his gaze back to his lover and soon he could not take his eyes off of Thorin. Thranduil had never bother to learn Khuzdûl but at the moment he cared not for this, even if his son was right now reciting something unknown to him he could tell this was only a formality for what they had already done so many moons ago. His hand was trembling feeling every emotion Thorin was trying to share with him, he could hear the words in the common tongue in his mind as if Thorin was trying to tell him everything that Thranduil could not understand.  Lord Faern cleared his throat watching with amusement as both males shook their heads as if breaking a spell before turning to the dwarf Lord, Lord Faern pursed his lips to prevent the smile for showing before waving his hands away.

“This union cannot be forged unless you have the approval of your kin.” Lord Faern said in the common tongue. “So, now I ask to those who share the blood of Prince Thranduil, do you agree to this union?”

Legolas stepped forward, his hand sneaked inside the box putting out a green cord. The elf passed the box to Balin before stepping forward moving close to Thorin and Thranduil. The elf lifted his eyes to his father then he went to look at Thorin, Legolas took a deep breath speaking to all the presents while his hands worked swiftly in tying Thranduil’s and Thorin’s right hands together.

“I cannot think of anyone else to take care and love Prince Thranduil.” Legolas swallowed almost hesitating at the last part, for a brief moment Thranduil broke the eye contact he had with Thorin to stare at his son, Legolas was smiling while tying the knots around the hands of the two males as he continued with his speech.

“I not only agree with this union, but also bless it with the favours of the Elves of the Woodland Realm and the rest of my kin.” Legolas then wrapped his hands around the joined hands of Thorin and Thranduil, he turned to Thorin with a serious expression. “Protect him, I’m giving you someone I that’s precious to me beyond measure, King Thorin.”

Thorin nodded returning his attention back to Thranduil who was trying to catch his son’s eyes. At that moment, Legolas stepped back leaving way to Dís who approached the couple while putting out a blue cord from the box Balin was offering her. She stood with her eyes looking from the elf to the dwarf while her hands work swiftly on tying the cord around the couple.

“I see no reason for this union to not take place.” Dís started speaking while making sure both cords seemed to be intertwined as if they were just a single cord.  “I believe this is the beginning of great changes for both our Kingdoms, it would be a chance to leave behind all enmities and forge new friendships.”

Queen Dís wrapped her hands around the hands of both males, the cords were now tied together joining the hands of the elf and the dwarf in a single embrace. Thorin glanced at Dís before returning his attention back to Thranduil.

“I not only agree to this union, but also bless it with the favour and grace of the Dwarrows of Erebor, Ered Luin and the Iron Hills.” Dís smiled softly. “May the days of the new Kings of Erebor be blessed and full of prosperity and happiness.”

Then Lord Faern approached again placing his right hand on top of the joined hands of the males, “Now, my Kings, it is time for both of you to complete the ritual if this is what you want from now on both of you will stand before the eyes of Erebor as husbands and rightful Kings of Erebor.”

Thranduil quirked a brow with a strange teasing gleam in his eyes, Thorin caught this stare and lifted both his brows with his lips curling up. It was entirely possible both of them were thinking the same even though they knew Lord Faern was referring to the sealing vows of the ritual and not any other, more intimate, activities. Lord Faern cleared his throat again shaking his head while waving his hands to urge both males to start speaking, Thorin squeezed Thranduil’s hand his lips parted ready to speak and sealed their union.

“Through this ritual you have become mine as much as I have become yours forever.” Thorin swallowed under the intense stare Thranduil was sending his way, he could feel the love coming from the elf in constant waves assaulting his senses making him want to have some alone time with the elf.

“What we have lived in these last months have made it clear before my eyes I cannot be complete unless you are by my side.” Thorin stepped forward placing his left hand on top of their joined hands. “More than a deal between our Kingdoms, this is an union made out of love. You hold my heart in your hands and I will do everything in my power to never fail you or our people, for Erebor and Mirkwood are now one through us and the heirs born out of this union.”

There was only sincerity behind Thorin’s words, many were looking at their new King impressed by such a sheer show of affection while others were merely confused at it.  Thranduil lowered his gaze overwhelmed by Thorin’s words, the feeling the Dwarven-king had put behind those words had hit Thranduil straight on his chest. Thranduil lifted his stare to lock eyes with Thorin again, he smiled with his lips trembling slightly.

“You have a way with words I find difficult to associate with your race.” His words left his mouth without any malice, on the contrary, there was a hint of admiration and tenderness behind his tone as he spoke again. “I found myself being surprised by you again and again and I cannot help but think you already had my heart the moment we met. Somehow, you have won over my affections before I was even aware of this.”

Thorin smirked smugly enjoying the torn expression of the elf, Thranduil was looking half exasperate and half affectionate towards Thorin. The elf squeezed the hand holding his before continuing with his speech.

“I belong to you as much as you belong to me, now and forever. I stand before you promising to do everything in my power to protect our home, to protect Erebor as much as the Woodland Realm.” Thranduil finished his speech with a tender smile adorning his features.

No one said or did much for a second, then Lord Faern approached stretching his arms again he face the people in the room.

“Dwarrows of Erebor, Men of Dale and distant lands, Elves of the Woodland Realm and the lands before our borders allowed me to introduce to you the Kings of Erebor and the Woodland Realm.” Lord Faern declared with a powerful voice carried around the room. “King Thorin and King Thranduil! Sigin akyul id-Uzbad!”

“Sigin akyul id-Uzbad!” The dwarves answered as one all of them kneeling down this time not to one but two kings.

King Oropher smiled gently bowing his head alongside his kin and the men that had come to the ceremony. Soon the room broke in deep cheers and the sound of music started filling the room, while Lord Faern explained to the new Kings it was time to welcome and to thank the different emissaries and Lords that had come to the celebration.

“Are we going to greet them tie like this?” Thranduil asked when Lord Faern went to urge King Oropher to come forward.

“Oh, no, no my Liege, you are right.” Lord Faern returned waving his hand to King Thorin. “Usually is…is the King who must untied them before putting his on his partner’s wrist and King Thranduil should tie his on King Thorin’s one.”

King Oropher approached with Legolas standing by his side, both of them watched with growing curiosity and amusement as Thranduil and Thorin tried to untie the knots on their cords. In the end, it was Thranduil the one succeeding, taking firs the green cord then the blue one.

“I believe this could go on faster and easier if you just start with formalities and then finish tying this at a later time.” King Oropher offered while he watched Thranduil trying to tie his cord on Thorin’s wrist.

“Perhaps, but later there won’t be time.” Thorin replied finishing his work while facing King Oropher. "After this we have to dance, remember?”

King Oropher lifted his brows with his lips giving a half-smirk, “Oh, so you really are going to follow our traditions on this one, are you not?”

“If I don’t I believe I will have your whole Kingdom rather upset, besides King Erumion and Prince Thúlon had prepared this part of the festivities.” Thorin replied before settling his eyes on Legolas then back on Oropher.

“Now I am rather curious to see you and my son dancing.” Oropher turned to Thranduil who was rather focused on tying his cord around Thorin’s wrist ignoring his father’s stare as much as he could.

“Of course, something tells me you and my son had already done this ritual before. This would only be a reaffirmation of what you just did there.” Oropher smirked and Thorin chuckled, Thranduil looked rather mortified at this declaration.

“But now I have to move on and let others greet you and congratulate you.” King Oropher turned to Legolas who nodded briefly calling with his right hand a couple of elves. The elves wore green and brown, beautiful robes covering their bodies while carrying two different objects.

The first elf carried with him a red pillow with a golden crown made of leaves and yellow flowers on it. The other elf brought with him a staff that reached Thranduil’s shoulders, the Elven-Prince opened his eyes staring at the items then at his father it wasn’t until this moment Thranduil realized Oropher had only wore to the ceremony a single war circlet around his forehead. Nothing else, nothing more.

“These are the symbols of the King.” Oropher waved his hand and the items were presented to Thranduil, the Elven-Prince bowed his head and Oropher placed the flowery crown on his son’s head. “You are now King, Thranduil. You know the responsibilities behind this title. I know you will do well or else I would have never let this happen.”

“Thank you.” Thranduil finally whispered.

“There will be a more formal presentation, not something as fancy as King Throin’s one. But, there will be time for this. For now, this is my last gift to you, to both of you.”

Legolas eyed with suspicion the parchment his grandfather present to Thranduil and Thorin, it was Thranduil the first one to grab it and read it, and his face showed his disbelief before his eyes filled with unshed tears. Thorin grabbed it reading avidly every word in it, he broke into a content grin staring from Legolas back to Oropher.

“It has already been made official, every single elf in Greenwood and out of the Woodland Realm knows of it.” Oropher turned his eyes to Thranduil speaking still. “From now on, I have only one son and a grandson.”

Legolas gasped at these words, he turned with open eyes to his grandfather who offered a gently smile at him.

“You shall no longer be presented as my son but as King Thorin and King Thranduil’s son.” Oropher put a hand on Legolas shoulder turning to Thranduil then to Thorin. “There won’t be more shame on me or the Woodland Realm regarding your birth, Legolas. From now on, you will be known as Legolas Thranduilion. This is my gift to you and your father, a token to reach your forgiveness.”

“You mean it?” Legolas finally stuttered. “I can…I can stop hiding?”

“Yes, you can.” Oropher replied feeling for the first time the pain he had caused.

Legolas turned to his father, his lips curling slightly as he stepped forward wrapping his arms around Thranduil. For Thorin it was strange the kind of joy he was experiencing at the moment, he could feel the sheer happiness coming from Thranduil as he hugged his son while whispering softly in elvish. The Dwarven-King crossed stares with Oropher, the Elven-King gave a sad smile before bowing and walking away.

Once Thranduil and Legolas stopped hugging one another more and more people came to the Kings to congratulate them and bring different gifts from their lands or of their own making. For the Elven delegation seemed far easier to accept the new role of Thranduil and the role of Thorin. They approached the Kings with smiles and words of riddles and wisdom all in one single conversation, Lord Elrond along with his children wish good fortune and wisdom to the new Kings while offering two scrolls describing an elven way to work metal and wood. Then came the Queen and the King of the Golden Forest and for this Thorin enjoyed the sudden closeness from Thranduil, how the Elven-King seemed to find any excuse to touch him and project a possessive and protective shadow over Thorin. Lady Galadriel seemed to find this just as amusing as Thorin found the whole display while Lord Celeborn offered words of congratulations and blessing for what the future would bring the new Kings. Their gift was giving in the form of a single seed and two silver rings crafted with the magic light of Eärendil and the silver born of the Mellon trees off the Golden Forest.

“Not so many are as lucky as you and King Thranduil, King Thorin.” Galadriel had explained as she presented the dwarf with the box containing the rings. “These rings are made especially for those amongst our people who had been fortunate enough to find their partners, the one they are meant to meet in this world. It has been a long time since I have seen such a union.”

“Thank you, my Lady.” Thorin mumbled grateful while bowing.

“No, King Thorin, Thank you because you have make Thranduil happy again.” The Lady gave one last smile before turning around and leaving with Celeborn following closed behind.

“She was Haldir’s guardian.” Thranduil whispered beside him, Thorin turned to his husband and he couldn’t help the big grin adorning his features.

“Are you mocking me?” Thranduil asked observing this expression on Thorin, the dwarf shook his head grabbing Thranduil’s hand in his.

“I just thought of you as my husband.” Thorin shrugged enjoying the fact Thranduil seemed rather flustered but content with the idea as well. “It just…make me happy.”

“It makes me happy too, perhaps, later on I can show you just how much.”

Thorin swallowed feeling suddenly nervous under such a mischievous stare form Thranduil, he nodded dumbly before returning his attention to the rest of the guests wanting for nothing more than night to arrive to spend a moment of complete solitude with his husband and fellow King.

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

The sound of the festivities resounded all through the mountain.

The streets were filled with Dwarrows celebrating the coronation and the new marriage of their King, many were feasting while toasting in the name of King Thorin and King Thranduil. Erebor became a place of merriment and enjoinment, with music playing all around and dwarves, elves and men dancing around sharing drinks, food and good stories.

King Thorin made his first official visit on the streets of Erebor followed by his personal guard with Thranduil trailing behind him. The now Elven-King smiled softly watching as the people of Erebor showed Thorin the love he had earned all those years by showing real interest in them. It was a moment Thorin needed to understand the weight off his future responsibilities and to not forget the people he swore to protect.

“They really love him, don’t they?” Legolas commented chuckling when a group of dwarven children approached the King with gifts crafted by their innocent hands.

Thorin received all the gifts with his eyes filled with emotion while greeting the children and their parents, Thranduil nodded agreeing with his son’s words. Suddenly, it wasn’t only Thorin the people of Erebor celebrate but also Thranduil, many of them recognized the clothes he was wearing and the clear sign of the cord of the union that made Thranduil the consort of their King. Legolas stepped aside watching with amazement as many of the Dwarrows that had approached Thorin moments before were now getting closer to Thranduil bowing with respect to him while accepting his role in Thorin’s life as well as in the future of Erebor.

By the time afternoon fell, Thorin had gotten a chance to chance to change his clothes into something more comfortable. He entered the main hall that had been arranged to host the night feast and the more seclude celebrations; Thorin look around with eagerness until his eyes fell upon the form of his husband sitting at the main table enjoying a light conversation with King Erumion.

Thorin looked out of the corner of his eyes to see Thúlon and King Tuon approaching him with broad smiles on their faces.

“ _Astalder!_ ” Thúlon gave Thorin a great hug before stepping back with his cheeks turning red. “It’s good to finally see you well.”

“It is good to see you too, Thúlon. I don’t believe I haven’t had the time to thank you and your parents for the promptly help you extend to Erebor.” Thorin commented lightly staring at the King and his son.

King Tuon shook his head offering a simple bow of his head, “There is no need for such formalities. That’s what friends are for, King Thorin.”

Thúlon nodded before glancing around then settling his shinning eyes on Thorin, “This is such a great palace. I have never been so far away from home and I still trying to get to know everything in here.”

“Well, do remind me of taking you on a real visit after this celebrations.” Thorin commented. “I know I have not be a great host to you and your people, but after this day I think I can dedicate my attention to you.”

Thúlon paled slightly shaking his head a little, “Please, _Astalder_ , I know you have been busy with the reconstruction and everything else. Besides, I have had the chance of getting Prince Legolas and some of your friends as guides through this lands.”

“Oh, you have met Legolas then?” Thorin asked curiously wondering why he just found about this just now, Thúlon nodded with a half-smile and King Tuon merely rolled his eyes.

Thorin eyed the two elves for a moment when all of a sudden music started filling the hall. Thúlon smirked wiggling his eyebrows when all of a sudden Thorin recognized the melody that was being played. Some of the visitors of Dorwinion cheered while standing up and inviting their cousins from the west to the middle of the hall dancing in a way dwarves and men had not seen before. Thorin laughed shaking his head to stare at Thranduil across the hall, the Elven-King was staring back at him sharing the same bashful smile the dwarf was wearing.

“We thought you may want to dance at the rhythm of the first time you both joined your lives.” King Tuon whispered to Thorin with a knowing smile.

Thorin felt his cheeks burn while he looked away, “Thank you.”

“Go for your husband, King Thorin. It is time for you to fulfil the elven ritual to complete your marriage to King Thranduil.”

Just as King Tuon was pushing Thorin to the dance floor, King Erumion was whispering inside Thranduil’s ear. The Elven-King softened slightly as he saw Thranduil standing up and joining Thranduil on the dance floor. Many of the presents could not understand completely while, all of a sudden, dancing seemed very important to the elves. Even more confusing was the fact only a few of them seemed to share such an intimate contact with their partners. The dwarves, not wanting to stay behind during the dancing, decided to join in while the musicians joined the elves in a combination of their music.

Thorin met Thranduil in the middle of the dance floor, the Dwarven-King smiled as memories started filling his mind. He remembered the day the both of them had given in what they really wanted, his mind soon filled with all the emotions he had felt the night he finally got to touch Thranduil. Thranduil for his part felt at ease, whatever fears or insecurities he had been harbouring were forgotten when he found looking into Thorin’s eyes. The Elven-Prince stepped forward with Thorin following his foot, their hands lifting joined slightly as they started dancing around the room. They didn’t look away from the other as their hands finally touch and a jolt of electricity went through their joined hands to the rest of their bodies until their hearts started beating as one. It was the most intimate moment Thorin had shared with Thranduil in public, the Dwarven-King soon felt the desire to take Thranduil with him away from all the prying eyes.

“Soon.” Thranduil whispered his lips curling in a half-smile while his eyes shone with mischievousness.

“I cannot wait.” Thorin said turning to the right taking the command out of Thranduil and guiding the dance with a single changed in pace from his feet. “I don’t want to wait.”

Thranduil chuckled stepping forward while twirling around provoking Thorin to follow him, Thorin quirked a brow taking this as a challenge following Thranduil while cutting his escape route with a twirling of his feet. Thorin smirked satisfied when he saw Thranduil narrowing his eyes, the Elven-King pressed forward his fingertips brushing against the skin of the dwarf while he focused his desires in that single touch. For Thorin the new sensation was like warm water in the middle of winter, like fresh water in the middle of the desert; Thranduil was tempted to look away but soon he found himself looking deep into Thorin’s eyes.

“I don’t want to wait either.” The Elven-King finally announced, he looked around to see they weren’t the only ones dancing but there were several eyes on them.

“Patience is a virtue, right?” Thorin commented teasingly while putting Thranduil’s hand to his lips.

Thranduil shook his head smiling gently at him, “You will regret those words once we get some privacy.”

“Oh, I’m betting on it, _Amrâl._ ” Thorin placed another kiss on the hand he was still holding. “For now, let’s just dance and enjoy the celebrations because once we leave, I intent to have you in my arms until our duties demand our presence.”

From that moment on, the dancing between both Kings became more intense; never before had the people present in the Great Hall witnessed such intense dance. It was a battle of wits in which Thranduil would act coyly and flirtatious always inviting Thorin before stopping the dwarf’s advances; of course the dwarf was never too far behind Thranduil, always insistent but chivalrous with the intent to win Thranduil’s heart instead of stealing it. Thorin was clever in his movements, he would pretend to give Thranduil an exit before presenting him with a chance to follow him in another twirl or turn. Thranduil would follow sometimes, some other’s he would call for Thorin to follow him and the Dwarven-King would do so without giving it too much thought. By the time the music died down and everyone was clapping happily, Thorin and Thranduil were looking for a way out, their eyes filled with promises of lust and love.

*****

It was soon evident for Bard that having a group of partying elves beside a group of equally partying dwarves might not be such a good idea. While it was true there was a truce amongst these races, it was evident still there was a sense of competence between them. The King of Dale tried to hold back his smile when the elven twins dare Dáin and some of Thorin’s companions to a contests of darts, Dáin had not taken too long to answer and now everyone was watching as the twins never missed their target and Dáin almost pulled someone’s eye out. As if this wasn’t enough some of the dark-skinned elves were making a drinking contest with some of the dwarven warriors, there was obviously laughter and cheery conversation amongst other things that were lighting the party.

Bard sighed glancing into his own drink with a piercing pain in his heart, it had become easier to take in the news of Thranduil being held by another. It didn’t mean he wasn’t feeling miserable at the moment. The King took a sip from his beverage scrunching up his nose, alcohol didn’t have a nice taste when he was feeling so forlorn.

“You know, the wine is tastier than this ale.” Bard turned around to see Thorin approaching him with two golden cups, the new King of Erebor offered him one of the cups with his expression completely serious. “This ale was made for dwarven warriors, that means is bitter and rather strong for a man.”

Bard narrowed his eyes feeling his hand tightening around the cup he had been holding, Thorin continued with his offering until King Bard realized he could not deny this to the new King. Placing the cup on a nearby table the King returned to Thorin who handed him the golden cup filled with wine.

“Please, King Bard, follow me.” Thorin said guiding Bard to a more empty all leading to a small balcony, Bard followed Thorin looking around and realizing no one was taking noticed of them.

It soon was pretty obvious to the King that Thorin was guiding him to the very same balcony in which he had kissed Thranduil during the Winter Festival. Bard lowered his glance to the wine and took a long sip from it, he hated to admit Thorin had been right the wine was sweet and refreshing, a nice change from the ale he had been drinking before.

“Is there a particular reason you have brought me here, King Thorin?” Bard finally asked growing impatient with the silence between them. “I hope you’re not going to threaten me to stay away from King Thranduil, because…I won’t.”

Thorin turned to Bard and the man was quite satisfied when he saw a glint of anger crossed those dark eyes. Thorin shook his head before relaxing and giving Bard a half-smile.

“My husband can do whatever he wants. I am his husband, not his keeper.” Thorin replied and his tone softened considerably when he said the word husband.

Bard swallowed nodding, “I’m happy for him, and you. I really mean it when I congratulate the both of you.”

“I know.” Thorin replied offering a sympathetic stare to the man, Bard shifted uncomfortably moving closer to Thorin. “Fate works in strange ways.”

“It does.” Bard agreed staring down at Thorin, he hesitated before speaking again. “Take good care of him.”

Thorin lifted his eyes looking at Bard for a long time before nodding, “I will, he is my whole life King Bard. He has the power to make me happy or miserable, I am but a dwarf at the mercy of an elf’s whims.”

Bard chuckled nodding, “You really love him.”

“I do.” Thorin lifted his cup offering a toast as he spoke. “Whatever happen in the past, it is in the past. I am hoping today a new story can be written, one of friendship.”

Bard opened his eyes in surprised whatever tension he might have been harbouring on his back was soon erased before this declaration. The man furrowed his brows in puzzlement, his tongue enjoying the taste of the wine while he mused over his answer to the request done by the very same male who had meant the fall out of his relationship with Thranduil. Thorin waited patiently his eyes regarding the man with cleverness while measuring the possible outcomes of this conversation. In the end, Bard nodded offering a tentative smile to the dwarf while clicking their cups together.

“I believe a friendship it’s a good start.” Bard lowered his eyes before clearing his throat, this time around there was no signs of the defeated man Thorin had seen moments ago but the sight of a King who had led his people for a long time. “I will have to say, though that I hope you treat him well. He deserves happiness and a good life.”

“Or else…?” Thorin replied with a hint of dare in his voice, his eyes gleaming amusedly but also with seriousness. Bard smiled a little shaking his head.

“Nothing, I believe he can protect himself without me or anyone else meddling in.” Bard answered in all honesty, then Bard eyed Thorin with a new light he drank some more of his wine before speaking again. “Was this the only reason you call me here?”

Thorin emptied his cup shaking his head, “No, I was thinking about something else.”

Bard quirked his brows in wonderment following with his eyes the regal form of the new King, Thorin played with the cord tied around his right wrist while his wore a frown his eyes had softened considerably. The Dwarven-King then faced Bard with a strange light in his eyes, his voice was already taking the tone of a seasoned leader as if the crown had been on his head for a very long time.

“I also want to talk to you about the alliance Erebor has with Dale, and the payment we owe you and your people for the help you extend to us in our time of need.”

Bard looked behind him before centring his attention on Thorin, “Of course, King Thorin, what is it do you want to discuss?”

*****

“So, Thranduil ended up marrying a dwarf, eh?” Celeborn hid his smirk behind his drink, Oropher rolled his eyes leaning back against the chair he had found as far away as he could from the others. Celeborn, however, was not ready to respect his personal space, not that Oropher was surprised by this fact at all.

“He did.”

“You know King Thingol would probably start a war for less?” Celeborn continued rather thoughtfully. “He looks happy though.”

Oropher returned his attention back to the spot where his son was smirking rather amusedly, he was sitting comfortably on a high chair with the crown adorning his head as if it had always been there. To his right side was Thorin speaking and waving his hands while King Erumion and Prince Thúlon seemed to be answering back at him. The scene was completely bizarre, something Oropher could not comprehend but that, for some reason, brought peace to his heart.

“King Thingol would have probably made up some ridiculous task in the hopes for King Thorin to die before he could actually get anywhere near Thranduil.” Oropher finally said. “I regretted not having thought about this before.”

Celeborn considered the comment before nodding grimly, “You’re probably right. King Thingol would have sent King Thorin to chase a dragon or try and recover Moria or something equally ridiculous and dangerous.”

Celeborn watched as Thorin made everything in his power to touch Thranduil, the Dwarven-King was always attentive to Thranduil’s needs even before the elf had a chance to ask for something. The way Thorin watched Thranduil was something Celeborn had not seen in young people in a long time; he remembered the way he and Oropher had been when younger, how each one of them had gone out of their way to conquer the love of their lives. It was not as different as to what Thorin was doing at the moment.

“He would have done it, you know?” Celeborn continued, Oropher turned to him with a questioning glance and Celeborn pointed with his head to the dwarf. “He would have done whatever you ask of him as long as he got to be by your son’s side, as long as he was allowed to love him.”

“I know.” Oropher answered in a whisper watching the happy expression on his son’s face, he could not take his eyes off of the dwarf who welcomed Legolas amongst them making him sit on Thranduil’s left an engaging him in deep conversation.

Oropher shook his head eyeing his brother with a tilt of his head, the other elf put on a serious façade while regarding the festivities.

“Galadriel told you about Dol-Guldur, did she not?” Celeborn regarded his brother playing with cup on his hand.

“She did.” Oropher frowned deeply. “Even Mithrandir spoke to me and the rest of the Dwarven council and the men of Dale about the threat.”

“We need to be on high alert, now that you have step down of the throne perhaps, you can consider to help us? Help me?” Celeborn asked tentatively. “You know? Like the old times, when we would go out and gather information for Doriath.”

“I thought that’s what Elrond’s twins and the Dúnedain were doing.”

Celeborn nodded, “Yes, but they need help. If it is true Sauron is back then we have to make sure the One Ring is never found.”

“It never will.” Oropher waved his hand but as he said this something inside his heart twitched with uncertainty.

“We do not know this, Oropher.” Celeborn furrowed his brows. “We only know the Ring disappeared, nothing else.”

Oropher emptied his cup before standing up, “Let me think about it.”

“Very well but, don’t take too long, darkness has already arrived and time is no longer our ally.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think?  
> Next chapter some sexy times, Thorin and Thranduil take over their duties as new Kings and Gandalf tells an old story that seems new to Thorin but horrible familiar to Thranduil. Also, babies, some are already demanding for an heir while Thorin and Thranduil are just busy enjoying one another.


	23. The Kings of Erebor and Mirkwood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They had become Kings, this is just a moment in which they have time for themselves, a moment of peace before the building of their new Kingdoms starts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm back! You guys are amazing! I love every single one of you, I can't thank you enough for your kind words and every single comment you leave on my stories. Thank you so much for reading the story, I really mean it. 
> 
> Now, this chapter is pure fluff and some smutty parts and just a moment for Thorin and Thranduil. I do hope you forgive my spelling, grammar and other funny mistakes, also remember I'm still working on my smutty skills so...
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoy writing it.

**Chapter 23**

**The Kings of Erebor and Mirkwood**

The celebrations lasted well into the night.

By the time dawn was reaching the mountain the dancing and the loud music had been replaced by conversation, laughter and drinking. It didn’t seem as if any of them was ready to go to bed just yet, thus the mountain found itself in the midst of a strange gathering in which elves, men and dwarves seemed to share in a peaceful manner their time.

In the midst of such strange distractions, Thranduil now new King of Mirkwood and Erebor dragged his husband into the darkened halls of the Royal Palace. His smile was wicked with his eyes gleaming with mischief, Thorin Oakenshield found himself enthralled following the elf with a half-smile and his heart beating like a drum in his chest. As they walked deep into the Royal Palace, the sounds coming from the main hall and the mountain started disappearing until only their footsteps and their breathing could be heard.

It wasn’t the first time, and certainly it wouldn’t be the last time, that Thorin cursed his height. Whenever they found themselves face to face, with their bodies so close and their breathing warming up their faces, Thorin found himself he wouldn’t mind putting Thranduil against the wall and having his way with him. In those moments, Thranduil would straighten up teasing him with an alluring smile and a soft touch on his heated face. He would never know how Thranduil did it, the way he stepped backwards with a tilt of his head and twitch of his lips; there was a silent invitation in his stare, a deep desire behind his touches. Thorin found himself wanting him in ways he never thought possible, he followed the elf like a thirsty man seeking water. The dwarf would crave for another single touch, for a single stare and Thranduil would smile coyly at him whispering words of love and desire.

By the time they reached the Royal Chambers, Thorin was feeling the oppression coming from his breeches with his heart hammering strongly against his ribcage. Thranduil found himself flustered, his hands were trembling as he reached for the chambers of the King. Thorin swallowed when he placed his hand on top of Thranduil’s one, as if this was the first time they touched an electric shiver went through their skin making their eyes met in a lustful stare.

“This is not our room.” Thorin whispered with a light growl at the end of the sentence.

Thranduil opened his lips closing his eyes at the soft tremor traveling from his heart down to his loins at the deep desire behind that voice. Thorin let go the elf’s hand taking a deep breath to hold himself, this time around it was him the one smirking while leading Thranduil to their real room. Thranduil followed him without any hesitation until they stood in front of a familiar door, Thorin opened the door bowing slightly to the elf.

“After you.”

Thranduil chuckled entering the room looking around with growing nervousness in his mind, the room had been left illuminate with candle light and dwarven lamps. The four-poster bed had been decorated with silver wood and blue and green bedding, the room connected to another door and another room in which a couple of armchairs, a table, a dressing table and a huge wardrobe had been placed for commodity of their inhabitants. Thranduil swallowed furrowing his brows for a moment noticing he had never wonder to ask or to even have a small detail for the Dwarven-King standing behind him. He turned around to see Thorin was staring at him as if there was nothing else in the world for him.

“Do you like it?” Thorin questioned taking of the heavy coat he had put on him after having changed his ceremonial armor for something more comfortable.

Thranduil stepped closer to him, his right hand closing around the linen shirt Thorin was wearing, the dwarf quirked a brow feeling his loins warmed at the sight before him. The Elven-King dragged him deep into the room dropping to his knees before the dwarf. Thorin opened his eyes in shock watching as those elven fingers worked around the buttons of his shirt, no words were needed and for a second Thorin could feel Thranduil need to do whatever he was about to do. The dwarf stood there feeling every single touch as if it was enhanced by the intensity of the stare behind Thranduil’s eyes.

When their lips met, it was in silent declaration of what they had been feeling for a long time. This time around, as their lips danced around it was done without the weight of insecurity or danger above them. Thranduil kissed Thorin without restrictions, whimpering when the dwarf grabbed his face and his tongue sneaked inside his mouth. The Elven-King let his fingertips travel down the hairy chest of his lover, he caressed every inch he could reach pouring all his emotions in the single teasing of dwarven skin. When they broke the kiss, Thranduil took the chance to nuzzle the short beard covering with open-mouthed kisses the skin of Thorin’s neck, Thranduil drank in the taste of his lover while his hands moved down to play with the belt and the clasp holding the breeches around the dwarf’s hips. Thorin could do nothing, he could say nothing but enjoy the warm mouth traveling down his shoulders and chest, he looked down to see Thranduil kissing and licking every inch of his chest and abdomen he could reach. As Thranduil moved down, Thorin felt his erection jumping in need, he bit the inside of his cheeks when his eyes found those of Thranduil. Dark eyes met clear ones, those clear ones gleaming with love and adoration as those hands lowered the material around the dwarf’s legs.

“I’ve been waiting to do this ever since we meet again in the battlefield.” Thranduil whispered with a mischievous smile.

Thorin swallowed unable to do or say anything, Thranduil seemed satisfied by this for he then leaned back a little lowering himself until his warm breath was brushing against the hardened member of his lover. Thorin gasped closing his eyes when a warm, wet tongue swirled around the head of his cock; Thorin closed his eyes trying to hold his hands on his side to prevent himself from pushing that mouth further down his cock. Thranduil smirked before lifting his hands to grab the testicles of his lover enjoying the breathy exclamation coming from him. His mouth moved to the side while his tongue decided to lick the length of his cock, Thranduil enjoyed the reactions he was getting from Thorin while his hands and mouth worked on bringing him pleasure. Thorin gasped again watching with fascination the bewildered expression on Thranduil’s face, he felt his stomach tingling with tension while his fist clenched tightly at the myriad of sensations he was feeling at the moment. Thranduil seemed quite distracted licking and sucking playfully on his cock, his hands squeezing with naughty curiosity at his balls while his blue eyes lifted slightly to look right into Thorin’s ones. The Dwarven-King could not help the deep moan leaving his mouth when he felt Thranduil’s mouth engulfing one of his testicles in his mouth while his hand worked around his cock. The fact he had been licking at him beforehand made everything felt differently, his hand stroking him slowly at first with his thumb caressing teasingly the head of his cock.

“Thranduil…” Thorin moaned out grabbing the elf’s hair.

Thranduil whimpered with desire lifting his face slightly to take Thorin in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the underside of the dwarf’s cock while his mouth applied some pressure in a sucking motion. Thorin closed his eyes tightening his hold on Thranduil’s hair, he felt his knees buckled under the overwhelming emotions behind what was Thranduil doing to him. The Dwarven-King felt the warm mouth of his lover around his member; he dared to look down once again to see the golden hair being pulled back by his hand, the left cheek of his lover taking the form of his cock as he kept on sucking him with deep and sensual movements. Thorin growled bucking his hips for the first time, losing himself in the sight of Thranduil kneeling before him while pleasuring him in such a way.

“Enough.” Thorin finally growled out again sensing himself close to release, he pulled Thranduil away with his eyes darkening at the sight of spit and pre-cum on Thranduil’s mouth, the elf wore a flustered expression with his eyes wide open in surprised and reproach at having be stopped.

“Enough.” Thorin repeated leaning in to kiss Thranduil harshly, the Elven-King moaned into the kiss allowing Thorin control of what they would do next.

Thorin kissed Thranduil with hunger behind his movements, he stepped back almost falling on his arse since his breeches were still around his ankles. The Dwarven-King stared at Thranduil who was still on his knees with his clothes on, Thorin swallowed feeling his cock pulsating with need wanting nothing else that be engulfed in Thranduil’s warmth.

“Undress.” Thorin commanded unable to form complete sentences, Thranduil quirked a brow at him with his breathing caught in his throat at the command.

Thorin lifted his right hand placing it on top of Thranduil’s head again, the elf leaned in ready to take Thorin back in his mouth but the dwarf stopped him. Thranduil clenched his jaw narrowing his eyes at the dwarf, Thorin opened his mouth shaking his head.

“When I come, I will do so inside of you, Thranduil. Now, undress because I want nothing more than make love to you.”

Thranduil shivered nodding while putting away his crown; he stood up still glancing at Thorin who was now taking the rest of his clothes off. It felt so intimate a moment, the Elven-King flickered his eyes to the side feeling self-conscious of what they were about to do with his body trembling under the sheer emotion and excitement of Thorin’s eyes on him. His body reacted almost immediately to the attention brought by those deep, dark eyes of his lover; his clothes fell to the ground as he stepped closer to Thorin.

Thorin admired the white, smooth skin presented to him, the harsh working around the muscles of an elven Prince and warrior. He felt his lips curling up in a smile while he tilted his head signalling the bed, Thranduil let out a soft chuckled shaking his head while pressing his hand on the dwarf’s chest. Thorin looked slightly impressed by this and soon he forgot everything around him when he kissed those lips again. They could spend a life time kissing one another and never get tired of the emotions it brought to their hearts. It was as if this would be the first and the last kiss they would share in their lives, they danced around while their hands reached for the naked skin of their bodies with Thranduil pushing the King backwards until Thorin was resting on his back and Thranduil was straddling him with eagerness. The dwarf held back a moan feeling the round arse of his lover moving teasingly on his length, the position Thranduil was in could not be completely comfortable taking into account Thorin was shorter than him, still the elf made it work so their bodies were pressed against one another.

There was a great contradiction in what they were doing at the moment, there was no doubt desire had grown between them and lust was filling their eyes as much as love. Thranduil could feel their hearts beating as one, their souls mingling together as their skin touch seeking out comfort and completeness. The Elven-King kissed Thorin down his jaw to his neck whispering in the dwarf’s ear words of love and lust, he told him everything he was feeling at the moment without hiding away how he desired to be claimed. Thorin bucked his hips with his hands clenching tightly around the elf’s hips, he gasped when Thranduil closed his lips around the earlobe teasing Thorin with short thrusts from his hips.

“My beloved King, I can sense you need release, I can tell how much you desire me…take me now before I come undone in desperation of wanting you inside me.”

Thorin growled grabbing Thranduil harshly and turning them around until he was the one on top of Thranduil, the Elven-King gasped lifting his hips opening his mouth in a silent scream when Thorin closed his mouth around the elf’s neck. Thorin let his teeth placed a mark on the otherwise pure skin of his lover, he bit down while his hands caressed the sides of the elven body. Thranduil let out a needy moan lifting a single leg to wrap around the dwarf; Thorin felt an raw need at the moment with his eyes darkening and his whole being reaching out for the elf under him. His mouth worked around the elf’s neck to his shoulders nibbling away at the naked skin while tasting the sweetness of the elf’s sweat. Thranduil whimpered in elvish when he felt a hand playing with his hardened member, the calloused fingers of the dwarf drifting down his length, to his balls until they reached his opening. He undulated his hips unashamedly spreading his legs to allow Thorin completed exploration of his body, the Dwarven-King snarled with his lips closing around one of Thranduil’s nipples and his finger teasing the already lubricated entrance of the elf.

“Thorin.” Thranduil moaned out throwing his head back, his left hand grabbing Thorin by his hair while the other one tried looking for support from the bed linen under him.

Thorin kissed around the white skin of his lover, his finger pushed inside feeling the warmth around it as the tight opening of his lover spread for him. For the very first time, Thorin felt a complete different emotion inside him; Thorin inserted his finger slowly enjoying the sounds coming from his lover, the words whispered in the common tongue and elvish as he worked around the hole he so wanted to fill with his seed. Thorin inserted another finger enjoying the writhing body under him, the hand around his hair tightened his hold while blue eyes sought to him with love and need.

“Please…” Thranduil whispered and the smile in Thorin’s face grew.

“Please, what?” Thorin replied licking around the exposed chest while moving his fingers inside the elf. Thranduil gasped with his hips trying to follow the movements of the dwarf’s hand.

“Please, Thorin love me.”

“You can do better than that, Amrâl.” Thorin replied teasingly, Thranduil growled enjoying the fast movements of those fingers inside him.

“Please Thorin, fuck me, claim me…” Thranduil finally breathed out finding his words being swallowed by another needy kiss.

The Elven-King spread his legs feeling the weight of his lover on top of him, his heart was beating fast following the same beating as Thorin’s one. He felt the warm coming from the dwarf’s soul, those strong hands closing around his hips while the tip of Thorin’s cock teased his opening. Thranduil wrapped a leg around Thorin bucking his hips invitingly, he enjoyed the growls coming from Thorin and he could not help but open his mouth in surprised and delight when Thorin decided to stop his tortured and take him in one single thrust.

Thorin dropped his head on the elf’s chest, his hips moving slowly at first trying to get use to his cock being engulfed in such a warm place. He rolled his hips moaning alongside Thranduil while the elf tightened his hold on the dwarf just as Thorin started speeding up his thrusts. Thorin sought out with his left hand Thranduil’s right one, he grasped their hands together lifting his face while his right hand grasp Thranduil’s hips tight his own hips pounding with need as his cock was being grasp in the tight warm that was Thranduil’s body. The Dwarven-King was about to come undone, his head lowered to the expose chest of his lover placing kisses and nibbling at the skin his hand gripping the white flesh leaving a red mark behind. When Thorin did come he did so with erratic movements of his hips, with his throat emitting a guttural noise just as Thranduil proclaimed his name into the night.

Thranduil could feel the morning was already above their heads, his body could sense the appearance of the sun touching the earth above it. He stirred in the bed wincing pleasantly at his sore body, his eyes opened wide to watch the still form of the dwarf sleeping beside him. Even after months of dancing around one another and of finding comfort in each other’s arms, even after the night they shared together Thorin refused to share his personal space in his sleep. The Elven-King softened slightly with his soul pounding intensely at the closeness of his mate, he could still fill the warm seed of the dwarf inside him, the marks of teeth and hands marking his body while his heart seemed completely an irrevocably devoted to the dwarf lying beside him. Thranduil snuggled closer placing a calming hand on top of Thorin’s chest while nuzzling the dwarf’s beard; their wedding night had been everything Thranduil had hoped for and then some more. So many years wanting to stop believing in happy endings or in love, so many sleepless nights in which he would cry and suffer in silence after having lost everything; Thranduil wrapped his body against Thorin’s one, the dwarf shifted slightly with his brows furrowing lightly.

“ _De velethron e-guil nîn_.” Thranduil whispered enjoying the warm from the body beside him, he had spent his night watching Thorin while thinking about his life up until now.

Now, as morning approached Thranduil didn’t want for this spell to be over. He realized they were now joined by more than carnal needs, he could feel Thorin in every fiber of his body with his hearts beating at the same pace. Just as Thranduil closed his eyes a hand placed itself around his hips, he allowed himself a tender smile while the hand started rubbing his sides slowly.

“I cannot believe you’re not tired.” Thranduil shivered when the deep, raspy voice of Thorin reached his ears, the Dwarven-King tightened his hold on Thranduil opening his eyes very slowly.

“Why should I feel any tired?” Thranduil inquired teasingly. “I cannot have enough of you taking me over and over again.”

Thorin snorted placing his hand above the one Thranduil have on his chest, “While I agree with you, I’m afraid I’m just to tire to please you in such a manner at the moment.”

Thranduil lifted his upper body fixing his right arm so he could hold himself up to stare at Thorin, the Dwarven-King was looking slightly tired but his eyes were gleaming just as much as Thranduil’s were. The Elven-King tilted his head contemplating the dwarf for a moment; he leaned in placing a chastised kiss on the dwarf’s temple.

“It would be a matter of time for your stamina to match mine, then.” The elf whispered with a hint of disappointment in his voice.

Thorin chuckled caressing the face of his lover while looking around the room, his mind soon brought back the memories of the night before and he could not help but react to the memories. He brought Thranduil down to taste him all over again, to reassure himself last night and the day before had indeed happened. Thranduil nibbled on the dwarf’s lips before moving away with a teasing smile adorning his features.

“As much as I would like to share this bed with you again, I’m afraid I’m hungry and I would like something to eat before we can continue with our activities.”

Thorin groaned giving in, “You are most certainly right, _Amrâl._ ” Thorin opened one eye feeling self-conscious under the adoring stare of the elf.

“I love you.” Thorin whispered with reverence sitting up while grabbing the elf by his hips, Thranduil chuckled resting his body on the dwarf’s legs.

“And I love you.” Thranduil straightened up moving the bed linens away from them. “Come, Meleth-nîn, let’s get dress and enjoy a nice breakfast then you can show me again just how much you love me.”

“Wait!” Thorin tangled himself around the bed sheets almost falling to the ground, Thranduil held back his laughter while staring at his lover with a quirk eyebrow. Thorin moved closer to him with his eyes open wide and a sudden distress glint crossing his eyes; Thranduil furrowed his brows when the dwarf approached him his hand lifting slightly touching every mark in his body with trembling hands. “Did…did I do this to you?”

The Elven-King stared down at Thorin confused at the change in the dwarf, he eyed Thorin only to see there was concern in those dark eyes. Thorin touched with tenderness each one of the red marks on the elf’s body.

“You did.” Thranduil finally confirmed placing two fingers under the dwarf’s chin, Thorin stepped back shaking his head.

“I hurt you.” Thorin finally said trying to ignore the understanding stare from the elf.

“Thorin, you did not hurt me.” Thranduil spoke clearly seeking Thorin’s eyes with his own. “You did nothing I didn’t want.”

The dwarf felt his cheeks burn in shame and lust for he had wanted to mark the body in front of him, something inside of him had changed the night before and a need beyond any he had known before took over his actions. He faced Thranduil and realized both of them were still naked facing one another, Thorin saw just as Thranduil’s face shift softening slightly.

“I beg to you, Thorin to place your mark in me, do you remember?” Thranduil dropped his voice taking his fingers to each mark while making sure Thorin could not look away. “I can still feel you inside me, Thorin…you did not hurt me, you make me yours as much as I make you mine last night.”

Thorin straightened himself up feeling ridiculous under the teasing stare of the elf who was now admiring him with open desire. Thranduil stepped back slowly luring the dwarf with a single finger calling to him with a half-smirk.

“Come, Meleth-nîn I believe before breakfast a bath will do you and me some good.”

Thorin felt his blood rush south as he followed his lover inside the bathroom, the water was not completely warm but it wasn’t completely cold either. The bath had been decorated with a great bathtub with decorations made out of marble and limestone with white and light blue and green alongside golden water taps with the form of bears or lions. Thorin welcomed the freshness of the water on his heated skin, he let Thranduil guided him to one of the steps inside the tub sitting down just as the Elven-King started massaging his skin with the cleaning gel. Thorin closed his eyes allowing his skin the transmission of the sensation around him, his nose caught the sweet aroma of the gel and the unique scent that was Thranduil. The elf worked around massaging every inch of the dwarf he could reach above the water while placing playful kisses on his face. Soon, Thorin felt himself hardening under the ministrations of his husband, the elf smirking with satisfaction when Thorin wrapped his arms around him putting him closer until their chest were touching and the elf was sitting on the dwarf’s lap.

“You got what you want, didn’t you?” Thorin asked opening his eyes to see the fake innocent look Thranduil was wearing.

“I don’t know what are you talking about, my King.” Thranduil whispering with a reverent tone just as he lifted his hips a little placing Thorin at his entrance.

The dwarf swallowed lifting his hips while his hands grasp the elf’s waist pulling him down. Thranduil let out a deep groan throwing his head back while his hips rolled back and forth, he tightened his hold around Thorin’s cock just as the dwarf gasp thrusting upwards.

“For me…” Thranduil was breathing hard placing his forehead against the dwarf’s one, Thorin moaned when Thranduil shift his weight a little. “For someone like me, for my race…what you did last night, what you’re doing right now it’s the ultimate show of affection.”

Thorin opened his eyes and soon he found himself trapped behind the blue stare of his lover, Thranduil started raising his hips slightly feeling the length of the dwarf’s member sliding out of him only for him to drop back down letting the dwarf filling him again. Both of them moan at the same time, as Thranduil started riding the Dwarven-King giving him needy kisses.

“You could never hurt me, Meleth-nîn, never…” Thranduil continued his bouncing with slow but sharp movements, every time he felt the emptiness inside him Thorin would grasp his hips tightly putting him down on him.

Unlike the night before, this was an act of reassurance for the Elven-King could feel the shaken soul of his lover when his eyes fell upon the marks he had made the night before. Thranduil tried to reassure Thorin, to tell him whatever he had done was done out of love and to make Thranduil feel right. They were tender in their movements, Thorin was trying to pour love in his actions and Thranduil was feeling every single emotion enhanced by the connection. When he came, he did so with Thorin stealing away his moans, their lips kissing sloppily while they came down from their orgasm while still completely joined.

It was already late by the time both of them came out of the bathroom, Thranduil sat down in front of the mirror smiling brightly at the Dwarven-King. Thorin stood behind him wearing casual clothing with his new crown adorning his head, his beard back to normal and the marriage cord tightly wrapped around his right hand. Thorin returned the smile placing his hands on the elf’s shoulders admiring the way the shirt and the leggings protected the form of his husband.

“Are you ready for breakfast now?” Thranduil inquired teasingly, Thorin chuckled shaking his head.

“You are the one to blame. I thought you were sore and tired, and here you are, hungry for more.”

Thranduil smirked at the reflection of the dwarf, “Soon, my love you will be coming to me begging for more.”

Thorin snorted shaking his head while leaning in to grab the brush Thranduil had been using on his hair.

“I’ll have you begging before you can make me beg.” Thorin started brushing the elf’s hair before his cheeks turned an interesting shade of red.

“What is it? Tell me what wicked machinations had brought such a colour to your cheeks.” Thranduil was enjoying the sudden shy nature of his husband, he smiled widely when Thorin merely glared at him.

“It’s nothing wicked, oh great Elven-King.” Thorin said rolling his eyes. “You really are one mischievous mind, aren’t you _Amrâl_?”

“I do not know what are you talking about.” Thranduil replied putting on an innocent façade, Thorin snorted shaking his head.

“Anyway, I just…after the wedding night, dwarves usually braid their partner’s hair.” Thorin explained looking down at the golden locks on his hand. “It is a show of…of them belonging to one another.”

“Like we do right now?” Thranduil inquired still highly amused by his lover’s expression, it was such a strange sight to see Thorin suddenly so shy it made Thranduil want him more.

“Well, would you mind me braiding your hair?” Thorin asked again lifting a single eyebrow at Thranduil.

“By all means, Meleth-nîn, do let everyone know last night we consummate our union.”

Thorin narrowed his eyes at the elf, Thranduil smirked but decided to not say anything else. Thorin nodded sharply with his hands moving to start working on the braid, the room soon went completely silent with Thranduil watching the look of pure concentration on the dwarf and Thorin working on making his work perfect.

*****

Erebor was in state of calmness after the great celebration the night before.

Only the merchants and some of the children were completely awake running around the city working or playing. The honorable guests from the other Kingdoms were all just waking up, and many of the important personalities of the mountain were still in their respective homes ready to rest before life continue the following day.

Thorin and Thranduil went directly to the kitchens where they were attended by a group of Dwarven servants all ready to serve their Kings. This was the first time the both of them appeared under the public eye and for many of the servants it was obvious the marriage had been for more than political reasons. They could see the open love between them, their eyes could hardly look away and their smiles only show devotion and love.

Thorin glanced around as some of the dwarves arranged the basket full of food their King just asked of them, Thranduil was observing everything with curiosity and amusement before turning to Thorin.

“Where are you taking me?” The King inquired eyeing with certain suspicion to the dwarf.

“It’s a secret.” Thorin replied easily fixing his clothing while standing up. “There is something I want to show you, and there is something I want to speak to you about.”

Thranduil quirked a brow watching as Thorin grabbed the basket double checking the contents of it, not sooner had the King made sure everything was ready he grabbed Thranduil by his hand dragging him out of the kitchens. Thranduil laughed filling the halls with the sweet melody of said laughter, the eyes of the elf gleamed happily until he found himself in front of a strange door leading to a passage with stairs going down.

“Thorin?”

“You trusts me, don’t you?” the dwarf asked stepping into the passage, Thranduil rolled his eyes looking unimpressed to the dwarf.

“That’s a stupid question, you know I do.”

“Then come, I promise the sight is something worth the enclosed space.”

It took them more than twenty minutes to reach the passage Thorin had been looking for, Thranduil felt the world closing around him with the darkness growing instead of diminishing. He looked around with anxiety, an anxiety that could only be calmed when Thorin grasped his hand around his. The Dwarven-king took him deeper inside the mountain, sometimes he would speak explaining how some of these caverns came to be telling the elf about the work his race had done only to discover there was nothing much of value in these parts of the mountain.

“They were wrong, you know?” Thorin finally said looking for something with his hand on the stone. “There was something valuable, just not something useful in a sense.”

The dwarf smirked when he found the lever, he pulled it down and the door to his left opened slightly. Thranduil shifted the torch he had been carrying to the sound of the opening stone. He furrowed his eyes watching the white, silver light coming from the other side when he turned to Thorin he saw the content smile there and the eager expression on the dwarf who nodded his head pointing at the room.

“Go on.”

Thranduil was waiting to find just another cavern filled with gems or mithril or something of this nature. He was pleasantly surprised when all he found was a cavern covered in green and brown with strange crystals coming from the sides and the ceiling bringing a light like the one from the moon. Thranduil stepped in admiring the great space in front of him, the ceiling was high above his head while the rest of the cavern seemed to keep going and going into the combination of darkness and silver light. The Elven-King stepped forward realizing what he was stepping on was grass, he tilted his head catching the sound of running water and the smell of some kind of flowery scent in the air. With some admiration and shocked Thranduil stepped further inside looking around at the strange crystals and the uneven form of the floor covered in green.

“What is this?” Thranduil finally questioned turning to Thorin who had been admiring him from a distance.

“We found it once, when Frerin was trying to hide from father.” Thorin explained approaching his lover. “We never thought such a place was possible, not in Erebor and certainly not so deep under the ground.”

Thranduil had a bewilder expression on his face, hi skin was gleaming into the cavern as he admired the cavern. Thorin smiled satisfied feeling the raw emotions coming from his lover, Thranduil continued his exploration while feeling the nature surrounding him.

“This is a beautiful place.” Thranduil turned to Thorin with furrowed brows. “Why haven’t you showed this to anyone else?”

Thorin shrugged, “It was a secret place. We used to come here to hide and train with Dís and Frerin. Then, we grew older and we couldn’t come here anymore. Still, whenever I have the need to think or hide away I know I can come here. You can actually feel Erebor in this place.”

“If you think this place is beautiful, then I have to take you to Mirkwood.” Thranduil commented kneeling down allowing his fingertips the exploration of the grass. “Will you come with me?”

“Of course I will.” Thorin stood beside Thranduil. “It’s our home as well, right?”

Thranduil curled his lips nodding, “It is.”

Thorin glanced into the eyes of the elf for a long time, he was still bewildered at his luck of having found someone like Thranduil. The King leaned in placing an innocent kiss on the elf’s forehead.

“I have to confess, there is another reason as to why I brought you here.” Thorin finally said.

“What is it?” Thranduil sat on the grass leaning back on his hands while eyeing Thorin with open curiosity.

The Dwarven-Prince put his hand inside his clothes his fingers wrapping around the Arkenstone putting it out for the elf to see it for the very first time. Thranduil furrowed his brows while the light of the stone caught his eyes, the elf leaned forward with a nagging feeling inside his head.

“This was the stone my father claim as his, the one he had taken as a sign for his ruling over the mountain.” Thorin explained while Thranduil eyed the stone with his jaw clenching tightly. “He called it the Arkenstone, but I believe you may know it with another name.”

“Where did he find it?” Thranduil whispered afraid to even touch the stone, Thorin sat beside the elf placing the stone on the grass.

“In the mountain. I do not know where exactly.” Thorin sighed. “You recognize it.”

“It looks familiar.” Thranduil replied with the same whispered tone. “Why are you showing me this?”

Thorin tilted his head to face the elf whose eyes were still on the stone, “It is part of your memory, of who you were before this moment. I thought…I thought you may want to know about this.”

“You thought I will be angry with you because of this.” Thranduil retorted confronting Thorin with his eyes, the dwarf shrugged nodding at the stone.

“Do you?”

The question caught Thranduil by surprised, the elf glanced at the stone again remembering the same shade of light and colour the very first time it was presented to King Thingol. The very same gem everyone thought lost and was now in the hands of a dwarf; many lives had been lost for the sake of a single gem. Thranduil shook his head looking away from the Arkenstone, his eyes found the forms of the crystals and the cavern more entrancing at the moment; Thorin allowed relief wash over him when the elf place his head on his lap looking up at him while his fingertips mapped out the form of his jaw.

“After everything we have lived together, after everything we have done, do you really think this will anger me or make me love you any less?” Thranduil inquired with softness filling his voice, Thorin smiled grabbing the elf’s hand and kissing it softly.

“No.”

“Then, why do you ask?”

“I have to make sure this discovery will not change nothing between you and me.” Thorin glanced at the stone with his heart darkening at what laid ahead for them. “When my father changed, at first he did so because of the gold and his hunger for possessing more things.”

“You believe there was something else at play?” Thranduil furrowed his brows listening to Thorin’s voice.

“Yes, I do.” Thorin pointed to the Arkenstone. “This stone, strange it decided to appear just now. Then, those gifts given by Dol-Guldur, the deals my father had been doing with them. Everything is just too strange, and now with Gandalf speaking of this great evil…”

Thranduil tensed with his eyes flickering around the cavern, Thorin placed a calming hand on his lover’s chest staring down at him feeling the sudden change in his mood.

“What is it?”

“Sauron was a great threat when he had power.” Thranduil commented carefully in choosing his words. “Even if he hasn’t recovered complete, he is a great danger. What he did, the way he manipulate everything for Erebor to be in the midst of war, we have some dark days ahead of us.”

“You really are afraid of this, are you not?” Thorin watched as Thranduil straightened up showing his back to the dwarf.

“You weren’t there the first time, on the great war we fought against him.”

“I’ll protect you.” Thorin said with conviction behind his voice. “I know you don’t need protection but I’ll do it. I protect you and our Kingdoms.”

Thranduil turned sharply to face Thorin; he took in the sight of the Dwarven-king sitting down on a darkened cavern with green grass under their hands and the silver light of the crystals gleaming on their skin. The Elven-King couldn’t help but smile leaning in to kiss Thorin sweetly on his lips, to be innocent and young so he didn’t remember the dark days when Sauron roamed the earth was something Thranduil would protect at all cost.

“Let us no speak of this no more.” Thranduil whispered with his lips brushing against those of Thorin. “I want to enjoy the food you brought with you and then I want you to show me the greatness of this secret place.”

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

When the afternoon fell, Thorin and Thranduil parted ways rather reluctantly.

Thorin had worked his way to Thranduil’s neck, his eyes were gleaming mischievously while he kissed and nibbled teasingly on the skin while Thranduil moaned in abandonment throwing his head back giving Thorin all the space he needed. They had gotten re-dressed a few moments ago and Thranduil was more than ready to take his clothing away and let Thorin had his wicked way with him. The Dwarven-King, however, knew it was time for them to make a public apparition but he didn’t want Thranduil to leave without taking with him a more vivid memory of their day together. Thorin watched the love mark on his lover’s neck, his lips curling up while he finished with the braid he was making again.

“There, _Amrâl_ , all finished.” Thorin placed his hand on the elf’s neck hiding away what he had just done, Thranduil fluttered his eyes opened watching his reflection flustered after Thorin’s actions.

“Are you going to leave me like this?” Thranduil inquired with his voice above a whisper seeking out the eyes of his lover.

“If I remember correctly, you were talking about patience the day before.” Thorin commented with a contemplative stare. “And, you were the one to propose we go out and look for our respective friends and family. I’m just trying to please you, _Amrâl.”_

Thranduil pursed his lips looking away, “I’m not so sure anymore…”

“You are one wicked elf, Thranduil.” Thorin leaned in placing a soft kiss on his lover’s cheek. “We have all night, I think you should go and spend some time with your son, I bet he has missed you as much as I know you miss him.”

Thranduil took a deep breath calming the hormones and his need of the dwarf behind him, he sought out to their connection finding comfort and love there. Leaning back, Thranduil rest his head on the dwarf’s chest nodding.

“You are right, are you sure you don’t want to come with me?”

“Pretty sure, besides I think my company and Dís and her husband are just wanting to tease me.” Thorin smirked. “I don’t think it would quite work out if you were with me shooting glares and growling at them.”

Thranduil rolled his eyes, “I did it only once and it was because they were talking about you going to someone in search of physical pleasure, someone that wasn’t me.”

“Oh, jealous much?” Thorin inquired leaning in.

Thranduil turned around rather fast incorporating so he was hovering above Thorin, “You have no idea.”

Thorin shivered putting Thranduil closed in a deep kiss, the elf moaned giving in until Thorin stepped back breaking their contact.

“Later, I promise later I’ll reassure you I am only yours.”

“Later, I will make you taste the real meaning of patience, Thorin.” Thranduil warned with a half-smirk adorning his features. “Then, you will know how I am feeling right now.”

And, without anything else, Thranduil left leaving an open-mouthed Thorin behind with a promise of what the night would bring to him.

*****

The air brushed against his skin messing around with his hair, the smell of summer was already in the air alongside the aroma of wine and fresh food. Wherever he looked elves, men and dwarves were still cheering merriment, some of them would greet him with a deep bow of respect the word King was whispered with reverence while some of the most daring individuals would giggle once they moved past him.

Thranduil followed the track leading to the elven camp where he could see the banners of Rivendell, Lothlórien, Dorwinion and Mirkwood standing proudly before the mountain. As he got closer, the personal guard of his father straightened up presenting arms to him while greeting him in one single voice.

“ _Aran Thranduil.”_

Thranduil tensed slightly still getting used to is new title, he waved his hand and the elves made way for him to enter the camp. Thranduil stared around until his eyes fell upon the form of his father sitting beside Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel all of them sharing a friendly conversation with King Erumion and King Tuon, he hesitated for a moment before stepping forward to get closer to them. However, as he started walking something, or rather, someone crashed against his legs.

“Uncle Thrandy!”

Thranduil opened his eyes wide watching as Fíli wrapped his little arms around his leg, the little dwarf looked up at him with a huge grin on his face. The Elven-King lifted his head to see Glorfindel and Legolas coming his way with Lord Elrond shooting him a rather amused stare.

“King Thranduil, what an honour you decided to come and visit us.” Elrond spoke formally staring at Thranduil while Glorfindel chuckled and Legolas looked away. “We were thinking you would be rather occupied with your new husband to attend any gathering.”

“I have heard of dwarf stamina but….”Glorfindel covered his laughter when he found himself the subject of a pair of glaring eyes, Thranduil felt his cheeks burn in mortification while Legolas seemed rather embarrassed.

“We thought it would be a good idea to spend time with our respective families.” Thranduil commented rolling his eyes when Glorfindel snorted and Elrond merely lifted a single eyebrow.

“Uncle Thorin is not with you?” Fíli inquired rather disappointed, Thranduil knelt down shaking his head while his heart shrank the moment Fíli wrapped his arms around him.

“He wants you to pick him up.” Legolas commented smiling softly. “He rather enjoys the height.”

Thranduil stood up his full height with the dwarf holding onto him, Fíli was playing with his hair until his curious eyes noticed the strange mark on the elf’s neck. The young dwarf put a tentative finger there tilting his head in wonderment.

“Are you hurt, uncle Thrandy?”

Thranduil felt his cheeks burn when he realized Glorfindel, Legolas and Elrond were all looking at the place Fíli had pointed. Legolas crossed his arms looking rather unimpressed but it was Elrond and Glorfindel the ones who could not hide their amusement. Thranduil promised a slow dead to his lover as soon as they were alone.

“I…no, I’m not this was…” Thranduil tried to explain seeking help from his son.

“Your uncle Thorin just don’t know his strength sometimes.” Replied Glorfindel trying to ease the tension.

“He hit you?” Fíli furrowed his brows in confusion, Glorfindel snorted shaking his head but Thranduil shot him a warning glare.

“No, actually he kissed him.” Elrond commented saving the little dwarf from a very embarrassed Thranduil.

“I never thought you and Glorfindel have such a great sense of humour, Lord Elrond.”

“Oh, after you disappeared early in the night and only appeared late in the afternoon of today it is highly impossible to not tease you about it, Thranduil.”

“Why did uncle kiss Thrandy there?” Fíli inquired again with his brows still furrowed. “He should kiss him on the lips! Does he not know?”

Fíli pursed his lips slightly bothered by the fact all the elves were now laughing instead of solving his doubts, he pouted crossing his arms but his indignation was soon forgotten when Legolas picked him up placing him on the elf’s shoulders.

“Don’t worry, Fíli, I’ll explain it later.”

Legolas shook his head half-indignant, half-amused before he took the little dwarf back to where the twins were making mayhem with some of the Dúnedain and Prince Thúlon. Thranduil watched as his son joined the others still carrying Fíli on his shoulders, the Elven-King smiled contently well-aware of the stares of his friends on him.

“Are you going to continue with your teasing? Or, you have grown already of such immaturity?” Thranduil turned to Elrond lifting his chin.

“You look happy.” Elrond commented approaching him, the half-elf placed a hand on Thranduil’s shoulder staring deep into those blue eyes. “It has been so long since I have seen you like this. I’m glad you finally found happiness, Thranduil.”

The new Elven-King bowed his head with a hint of gratitude in his eyes, “Thank you.”

“So, do we get a brief explanation of what it is to be with a dwarf?” Glorfindel chimed in easing the sudden tension, Elrond chuckled while Thranduil hit Glorfindel on his arm.

“You are insufferable.”

“You love me like this.” Glorfindel wrapped an arm around his friend’s shoulders before speaking again. “Though, I agree with Elrond. I’m happy for you, you look happy and you are more relax now.”

Thranduil offered an honest smile, his left hand going directly to the cord tied around his right wrist.

“I never thought happiness would be possible.” Thranduil commented with honesty. “What I found with Thorin was…different.”

“I know, I can see it in your eyes and in your fëa, you really found the one for you.” Elrond nodded towards the closest chairs and table. “Come my friend, I want to hear your part of the story.”

It had been so long since Thranduil allowed himself a night among his kin, he had forgotten how childish Glorfindel could be and how self-righteous Elrond loved to portray himself. He had forgotten how easy was to converse with them and enjoy the comfort of their friendship, when growing up outside of Doriath they had been the ones beside him protecting him from any unwanted attention, his nature as an omega had been kept a secret and they had stood by his side whenever Thranduil had felt vulnerable. They had been the first ones to protect his relationship with Haldir and they had always been the ones to his side in the midst of battle. The years had passed and Elrond had responsibilities and Glorfindel had his own monsters to deal with; now under the star-filled sky of Erebor they were back to their younger years speaking of memories of old and forgetting for a second the responsibilities of their titles.

Oropher stared at his son wearing the flowery crown he had offered the day before, to his side he could tell Celeborn was watching as well. Lady Galadriel softened her features slightly tilting her head in contemplation.

“Have you thought of the possibility of an heir being born out of your son and King Thorin?” Galadriel wondered and Oropher almost fell of his chair, the former King of Mirkwood cleared his throat ignoring the chuckles coming from Celeborn.

“I have.” Oropher then shifted on his chair furrowing his brows. “If I were to be honest I’m slightly worried about this.”

“Whatever for? Another grandchild would probably improve your charisma.” Celeborn commented inclining his head.

“Thank you, brother.” Oropher rolled his eyes shaking his head. “But I was thinking more about the possibility of such an heir being created in the midst of passion and love.”

Celeborn straightened up narrowing his eyes slightly, Galadriel pursed her lips lowering her eyes in deep concentration.

“What do you mean?”

“Celeborn, this is the very first time such a union is possible. We haven’t heard of an elf and a dwarf being together and creating life.” Oropher leaned forward glancing at his son with concern. “We have never heard of a child being procreate even if my son is capable of bearing children and Thorin is quite virile.”

“It is a possibility nothing will happen.” Galadriel commented with a hint of sadness in her voice.

Celeborn shook his head leaning back on his chair, “I refuse to think both of you are so pessimistic about this. Have you seen the way King Thorin glances at your son? Or how Thranduil looks at him? If this kind of love cannot bring life then we may as well give up and let Sauron take over Middle-Earth.”

Galadriel smiled gently at her husband placing her hand on top of his, Celeborn turned to her showing with his eyes he certainly believed his words. Oropher sighed grabbing his cup of wine and drinking some of it.

“It is not a pessimistic thinking, Celeborn. But it is something we should consider, don’t you think?”

Celeborn shook his head, “Think what you will, I believe you will be highly surprised when they present you a new grandchild in the near future.”

Oropher lifted his cup in agreement, even though in his heart he still had his doubts. He shifted in the chair joining in the new conversation while trying to quiet down his own doubts about the matter. Only time would tell who was right and who had to change his way of thinking about this.

*****

“He seems quite fond of you.” Thranduil approached his son with a half-smile adorning his features.

Legolas nodded thoughtfully watching as Fíli sleep peacefully on the elf’s arms, he lifted his stare to see his father was looking rather stunning that night. He wore loose breeches with a tight linen shirt pressed tightly around his torso, long sleeves and a cloak falling on his back. The new King of Mirkwood wore the crown of the elves on his head while his hair fall freely on his back adorned only by a single braid made to decorate his right side. Those eyes that once wore a sad, incomplete emptiness were now full of life and sparkling happiness. Even his scent was different, it was not only the forest and the clear morning of spring but also the warm heating of the forges and sweet aroma of home what Legolas could notice in his father. There was no doubt the Kings were now one in spirit, soul and heart.

“He is quite energetic, and seems rather fascinate not just by me but with elves in general.” Legolas finally said. “I believe this is a special characteristic of House of Durín.”

Thranduil chuckled shaking his head, “Like uncle, like nephew? You seem to be the only elf he seems fascinate with.”

Legolas made a face shaking his head, “He is but a child.”

“True, still he is going to grow and if his feeling were to mature with him you will have quite the catch in the near future.” Thranduil chuckled at the crunched up nose of his son, the young elf shook his head while glaring at his father.

“Enough of this, you’re just making time so I don’t have to ask what exactly are you wearing on your neck.” Legolas smirked when his father’s laughter died off and he looked away. “And, I’m not referring to the necklace you have on you, I’m referring to the obvious mark Thorin left there.”

Thranduil lifted his hand placing his open palm on the love bite Thorin left there early in the afternoon, the King smiled softly at the memory and Legolas had to roll his eyes this time around.

“I’m glad to discover you two are happy.” Legolas finally said.

“Are you happy?” The question caught the young elf by surprised, he eyed his father for a moment before nodding.

“I am.” Legolas fixed the young dwarf on his arms while looking around the camp. “My happiness is complete now that I do not have to hide myself.”

Thranduil placed his hand on his son’s head, he leaned in kissing the young elf’s temple, “I’m glad I have the chance to call you son in public too.”

“Have you asked Thorin if this bothers him?” Legolas wasn’t sure this had been discussed before, he knew Thorin seemed fine with the whole ordeal but if he were to be honest, he was still unsure as to what the Dwarven-King thought of Legolas role in Thranduil’s life.

Thranduil sighed seeking his son’s eyes with his own, “Thorin loves you too, Legolas. I believe you were the first one he liked way before he set his eyes on me.”

“That sounded a little weird.”

Thranduil quirked a brow shaking his head when his son offered a cheeky smile, “You know what I mean. He…He has named you our heir.”

“What?” Legolas tensed at the revelation and Thranduil lifted a calming hand.

“We do not have a child.” Thranduil bit his tongue before he could finish the sentence with a _yet_. “Erebor and Mirkwood need someone who can continue ruling if anything were to happen to us. Thorin have made it clear it is you the one who should take over both Kingdoms, he is going to make it public in the next council meeting.”

Legolas felt a knot on his throat, his heart beating with several emotions. Thranduil rested a calming hand on his son’s head shooting at him a tender stare.

“Do not fret and do not think hard about this, Legolas.” Thranduil swallowed making sure his son was hearing his every word. “You are more than ready for this, and Thorin is doing this because of you and not me. However, I believe you will need to speak with him and clear up all the doubts growing in your heart.”

Legolas nodded swallowing his emotions before offering a shaky smile to his father, “I…He really is something else, eh?”

Thranduil chuckled nodding with a dreamy expression attached to his face, “He is.”

*****

Thorin sat back with a smile on his face hearing as Dori and Gloin continued their narration of the battle and then went directly to the celebration of the coronation. Everyone was sitting down inside Bilbo’s home, the great table was filled with all of Thorin’s friends including his sister and her husband. It had been a long time since they had shared such an intimate and familiar moment, his heart still longed to be close to Thranduil but this moment he cherished it for what it was, a moment with his family and friends.

Bilbo chuckled rolling his eyes at the exaggeration in the narration, he dared to stare at Thorin and found out the look of pure tranquillity on his friends face. It had been such a long time since he had last seen this expression there, there was no more stressful line around his eyes or the tension behind his smile. Bad things had happened, things that had shaped the actions leading to this very moment; Bilbo understood peace was momentary for he had seen and heard the words of Gandalf during the council meeting.

 “What is it, Master Baggins?” Thorin stared at Bilbo with deep wondering eyes, Bilbo chuckled shaking his head.

“You really look happy.” Bilbo leaned back eyeing the King with happiness. “I’m glad you finally found someone to love you, Thorin. I knew it would be a matter of time for you to understand you deserve to be happy.”

“Yes, well…” Thorin shifted on his chair lowering his gaze for a moment, his arms crossed before he faced his friend again. “Life had not been fair to me, you could not fault me for not believing love or happiness were meant to be.”

“True.” Bilbo nodded shrugging. “Still, it is good to know you were wrong.”

“It is.” Thorin sighed contently with his left hand caressing the cord on his right wrist. “I cannot believe it still. It feels like a dream, like something I’m still fighting to keep.”

“After everything that had happened I can understand this.” Bilbo grabbed a piece of bread rolling his eyes when Dwalin and Bofur started discussing about some nonsense regarding a drinking contest the night before.

“I heard from Gandalf you are to have a council with him.” Bilbo looked at Thorin out of the corner of his eye, the King tensed slightly nodding briefly.

“I am, as always you know more than I give you credit for.” Thorin placed a hand on the hobbit’s shoulder squeezing lightly. “I’m glad to have you by my side, Bilbo, and I hope you accept my offer of being one of my closest advisers.”

“It would be my honour, King Thorin.”

“You don’t have to sound so formal, we’re friends.” Thorin replied smiling at the hobbit.

“I know that.” Bilbo then tilted his head in contemplation of his friend before speaking again. “Tomorrow you will start the building of your Kingdom, have you enjoyed your new husband long enough? I do not believe you will have the time after today.”

“He left early yesterday with King Thranduil and he didn’t came in here until an hour ago, Bilbo.” Dís commented with a teasing tone. “I believed my dear Brother did more than just enjoy his time with his elven husband.”

Thorin felt his cheeks burn when all eyes turned to him, Dís smirked teasingly when Víli leaned forward hitting the table slightly.

“Now, Thorin, tell us about the legendary stamina of the elves, is it true they can last the night?”

Thorin rolled his eyes growling when half of the group agreed to this rumours while the other half disagreed presenting the dwarves like the real race who held enough stamina to last more than the night. Bilbo snorted quirking his brow when the conversation took a turn into some uncomfortable topics and the Hobbit ended up knowing more about the sex lives of his friend than he should.

Thorin was shaking his head taking the pint Bilbo had brought him as the discussion turned another way, the King enjoyed the bittersweet taste of beer touching his tongue when, all of a sudden Bofur asked something that made him swallowed his drink down the wrong tube.

“So, your Majesty, after all the action last night and most of today, can we expect a little dwelf running around anytime soon?”

Thorin started coughing like mad, he placed the pint on the table with a heavy thud while Bilbo stood up patting his back while shooting warning glare to Bofur. Dís couldn’t help the half-smirk forming on her face while everyone seemed agitate ready to help their King to calm down, Thorin waved his hand away feeling his face red for more than just his choking. Thorin cleared his throat taking a more calming sip from his beer before scowling at the group, even like this he could not quite wipe away their expectant and, in some cases, smug expression from their faces.

The King cleared his throat again, his heart was hammering quite fast inside his ribcage as he recalled the events of the night before, and the early morning and then the time after that. Thorin glanced at the table feeling a sudden wave of terror invade his mind for he had not thought about this, his mind was still quite slow to catch up with the fact Thranduil could bear children. Thorin gripped his glass tight while he could heard Bofur asking again, this time around with the rest of his friends demanding an answer as well.

“I think, my dear brother had not even considered this.” Dís was sounding so amused Thorin had to glare at her, the she-dwarf chuckled shaking her head. “You really didn’t think about this?”

“I was busy! My mind was in other matters!” Thorin protested looking around the table pointing a finger to all of them. “We were at war, there was different attempts to my life and I was just…I…”

“So, you don’t know if you and King Thranduil are already expecting their first child?” Balin inquired leaning forward placing his elbows on the table.

Thorin swallowed shaking his head with an upset expression on his face, while it was true he would be more than happy to have children of his own he knew it was way too early in his reign and his union with the elf. Everyone could see the sudden conflictive emotions on their King, Dwalin glanced at Balin but his brother could only shrugged not really knowing how to react or how to help the troubled King. Of all the presents only Dís, Víli and Gloin had experienced parenthood.

“It is not the end of the world, you know?” Víli commented. “I was terrified of the same prospect, but I took it like a dwarven warrior with my beautiful wife there straightening me up whenever I falter. You will have the same, Thorin.”

“And, once you have your offspring on your arms, well…everything ends up to be right.” Gloin added nodding.

“Besides, we’re just speculating we don’t even know if you two can bear children at all.”

Thorin lifted his head to stare at Nori who suddenly was the subject of all the stares, the dwarf looked around shrugging shifting on his chair.

“I mean, we’ve heard of men and elves having kids but, dwarves and elves? Never heard of it.”

Dís scowled at this she eyed her brother to see the darkening stare there, she was thankful everyone was busy arguing this comment with different theories of their own to actually noticed the change in Thorin. But she did see it, the sudden doubt tainting those dark eyes. The she-dwarf shook her head wondering if, perhaps, Nori was right; Dís had only to options to find out about this: she either speak with one of the elves or wat for time to reveal if such a miracle was possible.

*****

Night had already arrived by the time Thorin reached their room.

He entered the adjacent room to his main quarters finding Thranduil was already there, on his hands he had a book while the fire of the fireplace adorned his skin with his yellow light. The Dwarven-King stared at the vision before him while his mind brought back the conversation they held back at Bilbo’s place. Thorin approached the elf with his eyes flickering nervously to the abdomen of the elf, he faltered slightly and his emotions had been so transparent Thranduil lifted his face with a concern frown adorning his features.

“Are you all right?” Thranduil inquired lowering the book, he tilted his head eyeing Thorin with suspicion when the King merely shook his head offering a weak smile.

“I’m just tired.” Thorin stepped forward sitting down on the floor resting his back against the legs of the elf. Thranduil narrowed his eyes but decided to not say nothing, he placed his hand on the dwarf’s head missing the contact with him.

“Too tired to forgone our plans for tonight?” Thranduil finally asked allowing a teasing growl in his tone, Thorin shivered his eyes darkening with lustful anticipation.

“Never, _Amrâl”_ Thorin lifted his face to see Thranduil was wearing the same half-smirk he usually wore whenever something wicked was about to happen.

“Good, because I believe we have been apart for far too long.” The elf growled leaning in putting Thorin to him.

The kissed into the night, their hands wandering around taking of the clothes that were in their way. Thorin quieted down his worries and anxieties, he gave in the soothing presence of his lover, in the warm of his souls as they joined in the middle of the living room with Thranduil showing just how much he had missed him. Thorin could not help but give in, his hands touching and caressing every inch of the body being offered so freely to him, the future could wait for now he was decided to enjoy his present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, did you like it?
> 
> Now their real lives as Kings starts and they will soon realized it is not as easy as they thought. 
> 
> De velethron e-guil nîn - you are the love of my life


	24. “Seven for the Dwarf-lords in halls of stone…”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time for Thorin and Thranduil has come for them to become in the Kings they are meant to be, the shadows of the past and the present are coming back and Thorin and Thranduil seem to take advantage of every alone moment they can get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there guys, thank you all for your comments, your kudos and your bookmarks, you guys don't know how much I appreciated and enjoy your comments. Lately life has been really hard for me so I hope you can forgive me if this chapter took longer than it should. I apologize as well for my grammar, spelling and other funny mistakes.

**Chapter 24**

**“Seven for the Dwarf-lords in halls of stone…”**

 

The sun rose on the fourth day after the Kings had been crowned.

The light filtered through the open window of their room, a light born of optical tricks made by mirrors and other crafting marvels the dwarves had done to the cavern right behind the Royal room. Thranduil had gotten used to the strangeness of sharing a room in such a deep place, he stared out of the balcony to see the blue sky and the early morning sun sneaking up in the different openings in the walls of the mountain. He smiled at the only moment of peace he got to share with Thorin before their presence was required in court; he turned around to see Thorin watching him with the same adorning stare he usually got whenever they were alone.

“I wish we could stay here all day.” Thorin commented stepping forward to stand beside Thranduil.

Thranduil rolled his eyes stepping back, “Are you going to say this every morning?”

“Yes, every morning until it becomes a reality and I can be one with you until we both are to spend to stand up, or even move.”

Thorin smirked when he caught the soft blush adorning Thranduil’s face, he stepped closer to the elf his hand sneaking inside the still open robe the elf was to wear that day. The elf sighed closing his eyes enjoying the teasing caress of those fingers, he craved the touch of the dwarf and was soon giving in his own need as Thorin became more daring with his touches.

A knock at the door startled both Kings, each one of them jumping backwards to put a safe distance in between them. Thorin glared at the door while Thranduil tried to get his dignity and control back.

“What?!” Thorin grumbled annoyed, he crossed his arms directing his indignant eyes to a chuckling Thranduil who was quirking a teasing eyebrow at him.

“I hope you two are getting ready in there and are not doing what I think you’re doing, or so help me Mahal I’m barging in!” The voice of a very exasperated hobbit reached the Kings, Thorin winced glancing up shaking his head.

“Why did I name him my Chamberlain?” Thorin grumbled easing his facial features when Thranduil leaned in to kiss him softly.

“Because he is the only one capable of managing the horde of savages you call friends.” Thranduil replied teasingly.

“I’m going to tell them that.” Thorin chuckled shaking his head, he knew Thranduil liked his friends more than his words let it know.

“Thorin! Thranduil!” Bilbo knocked on the door again calling their names.

“We’re getting ready, Master Baggins. Do not concern yourself, we will be out soon enough.” Thranduil called back dragging Thorin with him. “Now, Meleth-nîn, do your braid on my hair and then let’s go. Today promise to be a very long day.”

Thorin went to work as soon as Thranduil sat down, his fingers moved with expertise as he enjoyed the softness that was Thranduil’s hair. The Elven-King stared at the mirror watching the concentrated stare on Thorin’s face, how those facial features had softened around the corners giving Thorin a more juvenile appearance. No more wrinkles of worry or age seemed to be visible around the dwarf’s eyes or even around the corner of his mouth, his ears had sharpened around the edges while those eyes, those dark eyes seemed to gleam with a new light. Thranduil observed his lover wondering if Thorin had noticed it, if perhaps the Dwarven-King had seen his reflection on the mirror and see the subtle changes in him.

When Thorin lifted his face satisfied with his word and their eyes met, Thranduil knew Thorin was unaware of this.

“Is there something the matter?” Thorin inquired furrowing his brows, Thranduil offered a gentle smile shaking his head.

“No, I was merely contemplating our handiwork. This time around you didn’t pull on my hair.”

Thorin rolled his eyes, “I did it once and to be fair your hands were moving to places they shouldn’t when I’m doing your hair.”

“What can I say, my King? You are irresistible.” Thranduil whispered seductively to which Thorin could only respond by crashing their lips together.

“I’m hearing kissing! Is it kissing? Thorin! Everyone is waiting!” Bilbo screamed out again interrupting the kissing between the Kings.

“I’m going to kill him.” Thorin growled before Thranduil put him down for a softer, reassuring kiss.

“You cannot do it.” Thranduil nuzzled the dwarf’s beard before moving away. “Let’s go, Bilbo is right. Everyone is waiting.”

It took them less than five minutes to get actually ready and a few more knocking from Bilbo’s part before they left their room.

Thorin Oakenshield stood behind Thranduil wearing the black robe adorned with silver patterns and the black leggings adorned with heavy boots around his legs. The King wore the crown on his head while his right hand was left uncovered to show with pride the green cord tied around his wrist. Thranduil offered a half-smirk with his eyes sparkling mischievously at the King, his own skin decorated with two red marks around his neck and collarbone, marks he was now showing off through the V-like form of the robe’s neck. 

“You’re not going to cover that, are you?” Thorin mumbled watching as Thranduil made sure the love marks the dwarf left the night before could be partially seen by everyone who dared to look close enough.

Thranduil quirked a brow at him and Thorin knew he was in big trouble with the Dwarven council, Bilbo and Balin when they got to see the marks. While not many dare to voice their disagreement to the union between Thranduil and Thorin, there were still those who opposed the relationship and thus Thorin had been advice against these blatant shows of affection when he had tried to explain Thranduil about this the elf had not taken kindly to the advices and had made sure Thorin was energetic enough to leave his mark on him.

“I’m not, and I dare whoever is against this to say something.” Thranduil finished fixing his clothing and the crown on his head. “Sooner or later those who are against our union will have to accept it, Thorin.”

Thorin sighed taking Thranduil’s hand in his, “I know, _Amrâl_ , I know. But today it’s going to be the first time I will pass judgment against the enemies of my House, I want this to end well.”

Thranduil softened a little, “It will be fine, Thorin. Today you will have to be the King you were born to be.”

Thorin smiled nodding briefly, “Then I guess we should go before Bilbo really breaks the door.”

Thranduil felt his heart shrink at the sight of Thorin, he knew before the hardened façade of his husband there was a great conflict going on.  The days before had been dedicated to the naming of his Court and the hearing of the people’s needs, today was different. Today they would face the very same people that had endangered their lives a few weeks ago, it hadn’t taken them long to come up with the right sentence but when they did and the council agreed they knew this had to be done.

*****

The Royal Court of Erebor had become highly anxious about the oncoming appointments.

A new age had begun with an elf alongside their King and an entourage of commoners surrounding their King, many of the noble-dwarves had been sharing whispered comments regarding what the future held for them. For more than three days they had assisted to the Court waiting as their King made the usual public announcements regarding his new rein; the Council of Elders had been seated behind to the left and to the right side of the Kings while the many important personalities of other Kingdoms had assisted to the Royal meeting observing from afar. So far, the Kings had started from the bottom of the hierarchy assisting the needs of the miners and the workers of the deepest parts of Erebor, then they moved towards the commoners living in the most popular districts of the mountain to the merchants, the tailors, the fisher-dwarves and all the other inhabitants of the Mountain. For many of the noble-dwarves it was obvious the influence the elf was having on their King; the elf was a mask of pure coldness with his eyes falling heavily on the subjects kneeling before them, Thranduil would speak whenever was necessary but most of the time he would gesture with his hands and King Thorin would do the speaking.

It was a working relationship not many had seen or experienced before. Something was made clear through these activities, though and this was Thranduil held as much power as Thorin and whoever crossed him the wrong way he would pay the consequences.

The court was completely silent as the Royal guards entered the room with the few survivors of the Greenstone Clan that had participated in the uprising against the House of Durín. Behind them came in the rest of the clan and soon it was evident for all the presents of the decaying state of this once noble clan. The male Dwarrows entering the hall lifted their faces with pride and arrogance gleaming in their eyes, though there was a flickering of fear behind their otherwise harsh facades. Thorin Oakenshield straightened up with his fist clenching tightly and the weight of the crown on his head making him aware of the power he now held. To the left side of the Dwarven-King, Thranduil crossed his legs resting his elbow on the armrest of his chair while resting his left cheek on his hand; his eyes stared down the newcomers while his lips curled up in a cold smile.

Lord Faern stepped forward with a piece of parchment on his hands, he had been selected as the intermediary in the trial that was about to take place. The Lord looked over to his Kings and then back to the remains of the Greenstone Clan, he cleared his throat waiting for Thorin’s permission while the room entered in a deep state of silence and tension.

Thorin watched the Dwarrows in front of him with the memories of what had happened to him back in Khand and what he came to face in Erebor. The Dwarven-King sat back waving his right hand while nodding briefly to Lord Faern.

“My King, in front of you are the lives of the last remains of the Greenstone Clan.” Lord Faern started with his voice thundering in the ample room. “They are accused of high treason against the Throne, the Kingdom and Mahal himself.”

“And how do they declare themselves?” Thorin inquired quirking a brow to the middle son of Lord Drugin.  The young Dwarrow pursed his lips glancing at Thorin with animosity behind his eyes; he struggled against the shackles around his wrists while stepping forward.

“We are innocent. Our only crime was to try and give Erebor a real King, not some elf-whore like yourself.” The room gasped as the dwarf spat in front of the throne only to be submitted by Dwalin and Captain Farin.

Thorin narrowed his eyes but he soon was startled by the sudden movement to his left, he turned around to see Thranduil had stood up stepping forward until he was standing before the prisoners and the rest of the clan. The dwarf lifted his face snarling at the elf still struggling against the shackles but held tightly by the hands of Thorin’s personal guards and friends. Thorin followed his husband with his eyes, his heart beating in concern for whatever might happen to Thranduil if he were to be careless before their enemies. Lord Faern shook his head with his eyes on the Elven-King, he had given up almost three days ago to try and teach Thorin and Thranduil about Court protocol.

Thranduil quirked a brow staring down at the young dwarf before ignoring him completely in favour of the rest of the group. His clear eyes went from one dwarf to the other; the court was completely silent awaiting the judgment from their new King.

“Does he speak for the rest of you?” Thranduil finally inquired, his voice soft and sweet sounding more dangerous than the harsh tone from Lord Faern or even King Thorin.

Some of the members of the Greenstone Clan stared one another, the she-dwarves and the male dwarves all conscious of the judging eyes of their people on them. One of the oldest dwarves who was being held tightly by another pair of shackles shook his head.

“No, he does not.”

“You fucking traitor!” The last of the sons of Lord Drugin tried to launch an attack against the other dwarf only to be stopped by Dwalin again. “Let me go! I kill you, all of you! Traitors to my House, to the Kingdom! These creatures…these so called Kings are going to be the downfall of Erebor!”

“Silence!” Thranduil spoke loudly with his eyes gleaming dangerously; the dwarf froze on the spot shooting a hateful stare to the elf while the rest of the prisoners all tensed under the furious glance of the elf. The Elven-King stepped backwards with his eyes completely focused on the prisoners.

“If the last family member of Lord Drugin does not speak for the Greenstone Clan, does it mean we can expect a real repentance from your part?” Thranduil spoke while stepping forward. “How to trust to a Clan who has tried to take over the rightful place of our Kings not once but twice? Do any of you have something to say in your favour?”

The room was once again completely silent, many of the noble families were all looking with disapproval to the Greenstone Clan. Thranduil straightened up tilting his head to regard the dwarf who had dared to speak with such harsh wording. In his mind and heart, Thranduil felt a desire to destroy, to end with the threat that had come to his lover and his mate on so many occasions; his protective nature came over him when he saw such a blatant display of disrespectfulness and hatred towards their King, a King who had suffered more than anyone care to admit. The eyes of the elf went towards a female figure coming forward, her bearing was prideful and noble, her eyes focusing on King Thorin with just the right amount of defeat behind her eyes.

“There is no excuse for what happen.” She finally spoke silencing the protesting dwarf with a single stare. “My husband had longed harbour this ambition as well as my sons. I can only ask for our King’s mercy, nothing else and nothing more.”

“Mother!” The young dwarf exclaimed falling to his knees with an unbelievable stare on his eyes.

Thranduil quirked a brow looking back to Thorin who was still staring at the scene with an unreadable expression, the Dwarven-King furrowed his brows turning his eyes to Thranduil. For a moment, the both of them could only focused on one another with Thranduil still feeling his protective nature overcoming all rationality. Thorin softened slightly wanting nothing more than to reassure Thranduil, to have the elf in his arms again and enjoy their alone time the moment he did almost four days ago. How Thorin missed the only day of peacefulness they had as a married couple before they had to start their lives as Kings. Thranduil nodded lifting his right hand before taking his place beside Thorin, the Dwarven-King stood up stepping forward.

“I will have the same mercy your people show mine.” Thorin stated. “I will not start my reign with dwarven blood on my hands, I will not start with hatred or vengeance in my heart. However, I cannot leave you or the Greenstone Clan unpunished.”

There were whispers of agreement all through the room, many of the noble-dwarves nodded while staring at the Clan in front of them. Thorin placed his left hand on the hilt of his sword, his right hand calling for silence as the mumbling grew in volume. Soon, the room was silent again with everyone waiting the sentence.

“You will no longer be a Clan. The Greenstone Clan will be stripped down of every and all rights given to the most noble and ancient Clans in Erebor.” There were stares of horror drawn on the faces of the prisoners; the rest of the room was looking equally horrified or impressed by the punishment.

Thorin regarded the dwarves in front of him before continuing, “The ones that participate directly in the rebellion will be held down in imprisonment until such a time to be held against another judgment comes and we can find them free of any thirst from vengeance or evil-doing against my kin and Erebor.”

Lord Faern furrowed his brows folding the parchment on his hands, he turned to Thorin when the King turned to him pointing to the prisoners while asking in a firm voice.

“Is this reasonable to the Council of Elders and to the mediator of this trial?”

Lord Faern pursed his lips before turning his body to all the presents, “It is. The judgment is fair. From now on all records of the Greenstone Clan will be erased and the richness and valuables of them will be given to Erebor as payment for their crimes. The ones held accountable of the crimes will be taken down and only visited by their families with the Kings blessing.”

The room erupted in clamours of agreement while judging stares were given to the struggling group of dwarves. Many of the members of the former Greenstone Clan that weren’t wearing the shackles looked devastated with shame and tears on their eyes. The Royal guard put the rest of the prisoners out with two or three of them screaming before the unfairness of the trial. Thorin watched until the door closed behind the figure of the wife of Lord Drugin, it wasn’t until then he sat down seeking the comfort of Thranduil’s warm hand on him.

The rest of the morning was spent in a less tense atmosphere, the Kings kept on giving judgment to those who had not acted in the best interest of the Kingdom or had made some light mistakes. As time passed by, it was pretty evident for the nobles of Erebor their positions would be chosen by their actions rather than by their wealth or influence, the young King was not someone who could be easily persuaded and his elf husband was a cunning leader. The rumours were already out there, many spoke of the fairness of their King, how much in love he seemed with his husband and how his husband seemed rather smitten by the dwarf. The rumours also spoke of a great beginning in which both new Kings were trying to organize what had almost been destroyed by war and ill ambition. Many already spoke of the possibility of an heir, while some of the Dwarrows ignore the nature of King Thranduil, some others knew there was some kind of sorcery at work behind the creation of a strong heir. Some of the noble-Dwarrows were ready to propose one of their daughters for the continuation of the line of Durín, some others were still enraged when the King announced the young Elven-Prince, Legolas, as his immediate heir. Still, not many dare to oppose their new Kings, no when they had won the love of their people and had been working hard in their new position. In the end, everyone was waiting for four days were nothing for the young reign of King Thorin and King Thranduil to actually make a right assessment of what the future held in store for Erebor.

Only time would tell if King Thorin and King Thranduil were as good as everyone was hoping for.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Thorin stood in the middle of the room that had been his father’s office.

Wherever he looked, he could see the ghost of those crazed eyes staring at him, the voice of his father whispering in his ears telling him how he would fail in whatever he set his eyes on. Thorin stepped forward passing his hand on top of the desk, the papers his father had been looking over were still there. Everything was in the same place his father left them before giving into madness and leaving the study to never come back.

“You will need to decorate.” Thorin didn’t turn when the voice of his sister reached him, he could feel Dís was staring at him while closing the door behind her. “This looks more like the treasure vault than anything else. You will need books, some tables filled with wine and ale and a sofa and some chairs, comfortable enough for you and Thranduil to speak or whatever it is you want to do to him on this office.”

Thorin snickered shaking his head, “I am not you. Besides, this was father’s office, it would be weird.”

“It is your office, Thorin.” Dís said firmly. “It would not be weird at all, I think Thranduil is already thinking about the possibility.”

Thorin turned to his sister giving a half-smile, “Yes, he probably is.”

Dís made her way to the bookshelf staring at the different volumes there, her fingertips caressing the covers and the names written in Khuzdûl. She tilted her head to see Thorin was glancing at the ground in contemplation.

“What are you thinking?”

“Can’t you guess?” Thorin retorted teasingly, Dís nodded pursing her lips.

“You can throw away everything, if that’s your wish. I do not want anything in this room.”

“Bilbo and Balin were already making plans to fix the office, make it more presentable.” Thorin shrugged. “I agreed, I told them they could do whatever they wanted. I was thinking on asking Legolas to help them.”

Dís quirked a brow amused, she made her way to stand beside her brother bumping shoulders with him.

“How does it feel to be the father of a child that isn’t yours?” The question was made in a light tone, with Dís smiling lightly even though Thorin suspected the question was actually deeper than what his sister let on.

“He is a good lad.” Thorin said. “I have come to love him very much.”

“I know, you just don’t go around naming him your heir because of a whim.” Dís placed her hand on top of Thorin’s one.

“Did you think I did wrong?”  Thorin inquired furrowing his brows. “He is Thranduil’s son, we do not have an heir and I want to make sure Erebor and Mirkwood are not kingless if anything were to happen to me or Thranduil. He is still young, even for elves, but I know his heart is in the right place.”

Dís softened her eyes shaking her head with a gentle smile adorning her lips, “You fool. You didn’t do nothing wrong, what you did Thorin just showed how much you care and how much you had come to accept Thranduil and Legolas in your life. I’m very proud of you, big brother.”

Thorin smiled satisfied wrapping his arm around his sister’s shoulders, “Besides, I think Legolas does need to feel more include, I want him and Thranduil to spend some time together to enjoy what they could not before.”

“I know.” Dís then spoke more seriously making sure her brother understood her words. “Still, you have to be careful, you cannot expect everyone to love and accept the elves just because you do. You have to make Erebor fall in love with them the same way you did.”

“You’re worried there will be opposition to my decision?” Thorin inquired, Dís merely nodded.

“Soon they will ask of you and Thranduil an heir, someone of dwarf blood to carry on the name of the House of Durín.”

Thorin glanced at his sister, he mused over her words for a moment before speaking choosing his words with care.

“To be quite honest, I would like nothing more than a child.” Thorin felt his cheeks colouring red when his sister turned amused eyes on him.

“Oh, really?” Dís teased enjoying the sudden flustered behaviour from her brother.

“I just…” Thorin passed his hand through his hair scratching his chin. “I just have this need of making Thranduil bear my child. I don’t know, I know it is too fast still, we should wait until we have gotten used to our new positions but…”

“You have always wanted children, Thorin.” Dís placed her hand on her brother’s shoulder. “Now that you found someone to love it is logical for you to feel this way, but you’re right. It is too early.”

“Still, it doesn’t harm anyone if we keep trying, right?”

Dís laughed hitting her brother on his shoulder, “You two are just like some pubescent Dwarrows, really.”

“Look who’s talking, I cannot enter the Hall of Arms without seeing that creepy image of you and Víli…”

“Shut up.” Dís grumbled hiding away her own blush, Thorin chuckled shaking his head.

“I’m going to miss you.” Thorin commented after a moment of silence, Dís leaned in kissing Thorin on his forehead.

“Me too, big brother. I know you will be fantastic, write me as often as you can.” Dís stepped back holding back her tears. “I believe Fíli is going to miss Prince Legolas dearly, so I wouldn’t mind if you send him our way from time to time.”

Thorin snorted, “Of course, he really is smitten with Legolas. Quite strange.”

“Look who’s talking.” Dís stared around the room before focusing her attention back on her brother. “You have everything you were going to take to the meeting?”

Thorin opened his eyes shaking his head, he turned around making his way to the bookshelf located behind the desk. He knelt down putting three books from the shelf before sneaking a hand inside, his hand came with a black box. The Dwarven-King stared the box before standing up.

“I guess now we will know what the deal with this ring is and the strange events surrounding Erebor and Mirkwood in the last couple of months.” Thorin pointed to the door following his sister out of the study towards the council room where everyone was already waiting for them.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Lady Galadriel stood beside him, the woman wore a peaceful expression on her face while her eyes dedicated certain amount of time to the different people filling the council room. Thranduil couldn’t help but feel wary by the sudden appearance of the she-elf, he eyed her tilting his head while pursuing his lips. It didn’t take her too long to turn her attention to him, her deep, clear eyes pierced him the same way they did when he had been an elfling.

“I still remember the day you stole the flowery crown from King Thingol’s chambers.” Galadriel chuckled under the glare Thranduil was giving her.

“I was but an elfling.” Thranduil retorted with as much dignity as he could muster.

“A troublesome one, if I may add.” Galadriel tilted her head observing Thranduil with care. “Even back there it was easy to see the crown belong to you.”

The new Elven-King felt his stomach tingled with emotion, he felt the weight of what had been given to him by his father and what Galadriel was implying. If things hadn’t gone so wrong back in Doriath, Thranduil’s fate would be so much different than it was right now. The elf lifted his eyes finding his son speaking with Thúlon and Bard’s daughter, the rest of the room was filled with elves and men all of them waiting for Thorin to come and speak of the important matters regarding the recent events. Galadriel followed Thranduil’s eyes softening when she saw Legolas in the distance.

“He has the best of both of you.” Galadriel spoke softly placing a hand on top of Thranduil’s one.

“Aren’t you mad I forgot him so easily?” Thranduil inquired evading the eyes of the lady beside him.

Galadriel pursed her lips, “You didn’t forget him easily, Thranduil. You mourned more than you should.”

Thranduil nodded turning to Galadriel but on his face the Lady of the Golden Forest could only see peace, happiness and love. Those blue eyes now gleamed with different light, and the young elf’s fëa shivered with emotion as it entangled itself with the life force of the Dwarven-King. In all the years she had been on Middle Earth she had only seen this kind of affection and union five different times.

“Did it ever occur to you it would be a dwarf the one to capture your heart and soul?” Galadriel asked with a teasing smile forming on her lips.

Thranduil snorted shaking his head, “No, of course not. The mere notion even when father announced our engagement was unthinkable.”

The Elven-King quirked a brow at the strange expression on Galadriel’s face, “Did you know about this? Did you foresee it?”

Galadriel looked taken aback by this comment, she regarded Thranduil far longer than the Elven-King liked before she merely shook her head.

“No, I knew your fate was not to be with Haldir. But it never occurred to me your happiness would be with one of Mahal’s children.”

“I see.” Thranduil furrowed his brows lifting his eyes to see Legolas again, the door of the council room opened and Thorin came in with Dís following close behind. The Elven-King tensed for a second but eased as soon as Thorin directed his attention to him, Galadriel observed this interaction with care, her eyes watching far beyond what others might be looking for. The Lady narrowed her eyes for a second but by the time Thranduil turned to her she was looking expressionless at him.

“Even after so much happiness and the fact your heart seems to be beating as one with Torin’s one, you still feel afraid. Why?” Galadriel could not help but to ask of this, Thranduil sighed placing his hand on his abdomen while furrowing his brows.

“We have been together, several times.” Thranduil commented rolling his eyes when the Lady of the Golden Forest chuckled arching her brows at him.

“Don’t let your father hear you said this, he is already having a hard time accepting both of you for him to find out about this.” Galadriel smirked when Thranduil felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment, the Elven-King crossed his arms glaring at her.

“I’m being serious, I…”

Galadriel softened again smiling gently at Thranduil, “You’re afraid you cannot bear Thorin’s children.”

Thranduil clenched his jaw nodding briefly, Galadriel contemplated the elf in front of her before her attention was claimed by the Dwarven-King. Thorin was speaking with Balin and Bard, he was gesturing with his hand standing his full height and showing off a power he had gained over the last couple of months. Galadriel opened her eyes with the help of Nenya only to see the working of Elven nature already forging a different nature on the dwarf, Thorin might not notice it but he was already gaining a different soul, a new fëa tangled around the one belonging to Thranduil. Still, and even with her sharp eyes, Galadriel could not answer with certainty the question burning Thranduil’s mind.

“This is the first union between dwarves and elves.” Galadriel chose with care her words making sure Thranduil was the only one listening to her. “I cannot tell what will happen in the near future, Thranduil, I can only tell you the both of you are already one and this union is a gift not many get in their lifetime. Be patient, you and King Thorin are destined for great things.”

Thranduil tried to smile before shaking his head, “It is foolish, I should not worry about this yet. Still, there is something…perhaps I giving it too much thought.”

“Perhaps, but your inquiry is legit. Do not concern yourself just yet.” Galadriel then noticed the eyes of the Dwarven-King on them, she could see Thorin was concern as if something didn’t feel quite right with his lover.

The Lady of the Golden Forest smiled shaking her head in reassurance to the dwarf, her clear eyes glancing at the ring Thorin was wearing on his hand. For a moment, the world became cold and darker, she shivered under the memory of the battle in Dol-Guldur; Thranduil furrowed his brows sensing the sudden change on her.

“What is it?”

“The world is starting to change again.” Galadriel whispered only for Thranduil to hear her. “I could not foresee this union and now I am afraid I cannot foresee what will happen next, darkness seems to be growing back in the world.”

“So, it is true he is back.” Thranduil took his left hand to his right wrist, with his blue eyes trying to focus on Galadriel while his mind tried to stop the myriad of memories from a time past. “I’ve heard what Gandalf told us, I have longed felt Dol-Guldur was not a place to be trusted. I cannot imagine the dangers we are to face from now on if Sauron is really back.”

“He is back. Though, it shouldn’t surprise us, he has been known for being a sneaky snake.” Thranduil smirked at the tone Galadriel used to refer to Sauron. “Still, this is a worrisome matter, something I believe your beloved wants to talk about.”

Thranduil turned around to see Thorin getting ready for the meeting; the Elven-King gave Galadriel a soft squeezed on her hand before he made his way to his husband. He stood beside him glancing at Thorin before sitting down nodding towards the round table and the rest of the people filling in the room.

Thorin stood in front of the chair looking around the table, he cleared his throat looking at all the presents in the council room. His dark eyes went from the elves of Rivendell, beautiful with dark hair and sharp eyes, the family of Rivendell sat down sharing the same space as the Dúnedain from the north, men who were proud looking, taller than their kin from Dale with their dark manes and sharp facades. Only Arathorn seemed to have captivated Thorin’s attention though, the man had a face marked by circumstances, with his dark hair untamed and his grey eyes gleaming with age and knowledge, behind his bearing there was a clear mark of nobility and Thorin had in his mind the man, leader of the Dúnedain, had been born to be a King and not a mere ranger. Then Thorin took noticed of Bard and his daughter, a Queen in the making, Sigrid sat beside her father with the same prideful bearing as the King, but with a softness and determination Thorin suspected was a gift from the young woman’s mother. When Thorin turned his attention to his right he realized the Lord and Lady of the Golden Forest were already seated with King Oropher and the Kings from Dorwinion. All of them waiting for him to speak up and beginning the meeting he had requested before everyone was set to go back home.

Thorin turned to see Dís sitting with Balin, Dwalin and Gandalf, all of them already expectant as to what he was about to say. However, it wasn’t until he felt the warmness he had come to associate with Thranduil that he didn’t feel at ease. The Dwarven-King allowed himself the ghost of a smile before speaking up.

“I thank you all for coming here on such a short notice.” Thorin glanced out of the corner of his eyes to see Thranduil sitting down beside him, the Dwarven-King put his hand inside his coat and presenting the room with a single box. “I have called you here because my mind can’t stop worrying about the different events leading to the surprise attack against Erebor.”

Gandalf leaned forward with his eyes focused on the box Thorin had just placed at the table, Galadriel for her part was looking intently at the dwarf, her heart already guessing what was about to happen. Thranduil leaned back against his chair trying to guess his husband’s intention, his eyes went from the box to Dís then back to Thorin.

“For those of you who weren’t here back then I would make a quick narration of what happened.” Thorin cleared his throat explaining the events leading to his journey to Khand and then to his return. In all of this, the Dwarven-King was careful in choosing his words while always having a soft spot for the elf sitting beside him. Once the narration went to the events leading to the fight in the Throne Room and then back to the battlefield everyone seemed very anxious as to what the purpose of the meeting was.

“But of course, most of you know of this already. And even Gandalf had filled in the gaps of what was happening back in Dol-Guldur.” Thorin continued with a growing frown forming on his face.

“And, it is this part of the story what has you so worried, is it not?” Galadriel interrupted tilting her head to stare directly at the Dwarven-King.

Thorin nodded curtly lingering far more than he should on the sight of the she-elf, he cleared his throat trying to return his attention to the meeting.

“Yes, mainly because some of us received a strange visit, at some point, from a messenger coming with gifts at our gates.” Thorin turned to Oropher then to Bard, the man shifted on his chair nodding in agreement without speaking out loud.

Thorin turned then to Legolas smiling sadly, “This messenger brought two gifts. One of those brought happiness and sadness to Thranduil and Legolas.”

Legolas tensed with his hand moving to the hilt of his sword, he furrowed his brows remembering the day his father had giving him _Ithilmegil._ The young elf turned his attention to Thorin and then he realized the rest of his kin were wearing worry expression as the Dwarven-King kept speaking.

“The other one was a gift given with promises of greatness and richness beyond measure.” Thorin opened the black box showing the presents the golden ring the servant of Dol-Guldur had brought all those moons ago. The golden ring gleamed with the dark stone bearing the symbol of House of Nogrod, Galadriel narrowed her eyes while Elrond and Celeborn leant forward with concern written in their eyes.

However, it was Gandalf the one who stood up approaching Thorin while his eyes kept focused on the ring. Thorin furrowed his brows straightened up looking from the wizard to the elves; Thranduil eyed the ring Thorin had exposed before his blue eyes moved to the one Thorin was wearing.

“I see this ring is not news for some of you.” Thorin turned to Gandalf quirking an eyebrow at him. “You spoke of a great evil behind the walls of Dol-Guldur. Tell us what these gifts and promises mean coming from this great evil.”

Gandalf stood beside Thorin watching the ring before his eyes went to the Dwarven-King, “Indeed, I spoke of a great evil coming from this place. A great evil that almost destroyed Middle Earth; this ring…I thought it was lost.”

Thorin tilted his head without comprehending much until the voice of Thranduil reached him and the room was filled with an eerie silence.

“And seven for the Dwarf-lords in halls of stone.” Thranduil lifted his eyes to stare at Thorin who turned his head sharply to look at him. “Don’t you know the story behind the Ring you’re wearing, Thorin?”

Thorin opened his mouth to speak only to close it again, he turned to Dís and then to Balin and Dwalin but they were just as confused as him. Thorin realized suddenly he didn’t know the origin of the ring he had inherited from his father, his dark eyes went to the ring of the House of Durín and then to the one that had been giving to his father.

“Does it matter?” Thorin finally asked.

Elrond leaned in nodding gravelly, “Much like the Ring you’re wearing, King Thorin; this ring was given to one of the seven Dwarven Lords as a trick to get all races of Middle Earth under the control of a former enemy.”

Thorin shook his head pointing at the ring, “You mean this Sauron Gandalf spoke of last time?”

Thranduil nodded curtly, “The rings…I thought most of the rings of the Dwarven-Lords were lost.”

“As did I and I believe Saruman thinks the same.” Gandalf gripped his hand around his staff while his mind worked around this new discovery. If Thorin had in his power one of the rings everyone thought lost then, how many more Sauron had in his power?

“I do not understand.” Bard spoke for the very first time looking around the council with a frown adorning his features. “Every Elven Lord present at the table seemed to be shaken by this ring, but I cannot grasp the importance of such article. It is a mere ring, unless we are missing something you have yet to reveal to the rest of us.”

Bard waited for someone to answer his inquiry but soon the room filled with tension, silence grew among them with many of the presents thinking about the meaning of this discovery while the others were wondering what the secret behind the ring was. It was the man, leader of the rangers of the north the one to speak up with an old poem Legolas and Thúlon recognized but the dwarves and Bard along with his daughter could not comprehend entirely.

“ _Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky, Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone, Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die, One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie_.” There was a collective shiver that went through all the presents in the room, Thorin narrowed his eyes at the man while he tried to comprehend the meaning behind those words.

Arathorn wasn’t finished, though, he faced Thorin before finishing the last part of the poem, “ _One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all, and in the darkness bind them, In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie_.”

Arathorn stopped letting out a heavy sigh, “It was an old poem, a spell after Sauron gave the rings of power to the most important representatives of all the races a long time ago. Your ring, King Thorin, is one of these rings given to your forefathers. The ring the messenger for Dol-Guldur was thought to be lost after the fall of Doriath.”

“I believe before anything else can be said today that we owe the young ones an explanation.” Galadriel interrupted looking from Bard to Thorin and his sister and friends.

“It’s an ugly story.” Elrond continued. “But I believe, Lady Galadriel is right, we should tell you why the world seems to be giving into darkness and why it is so imperative we do not lower our defences.”

“I’m listening.” Thorin replied sitting down facing Elrond then Gandalf who decided to start the narration of the time Sauron became a great threat to the free people of Middle Earth.

Thranduil sneaked his hand under the table until he felt the comfort behind Thorin’s one, the Dwarven-King gripped the hand of the elf with tenderness as he listening the story of the Rings of Power and Sauron. Legolas heard carefully taking full advantage of the opportunity he was given, he remembered reading about the story of Gil-Galad and the battle of Dagorlad but it was so much different when you heard it from those who were there at the time. His father never spoke of it and his grandfather always directed him to the library. Legolas felt the piercing coldness of fear under the words Elrond and Celeborn were sharing with everyone, while he turned concern eyes to his father. Thranduil was listening as if he didn’t care at all by the narration, but Legolas could see the ghosts of the past lurking behind the blue eyes of the Elven-King, the young elf watched with care as his father seemed to recall everything that was being said while Thorin seemed to share comfort through their joined hands.

Sigrid leaned forward hearing the last part of the narration, the lost ring and the dangers of what this ring could mean to everyone in the room. She furrowed her brows looking around the table before shaking her head.

“How…How could you be so sure of this?” She asked partially confused, she turned to Elrond who was looking at her with understanding in his eyes. “How can you speak so convince of this? The different books or parchments that may speak of this could be wrong, and it is not as if you have lived this…”

Suddenly Sigrid trailed off when she remembered where she was and who had been speaking, she felt her cheeks burn in shame but the elves at the table didn’t look at her with judgement in their eyes; on the contrary, there was only understanding and sympathy there.

“Oh, but we were there, young Sigrid.” Galadriel spoke softly. All of us but Legolas and Prince Thúlon.”

“I’m sorry, I…” Sigrid turned to her father but Bard was smiling at her, the man turned to Thranduil then to Thorin who was focusing his attention on the elf.

“Do not concern yourself, Princess Sigrid.” King Erumion commented. “We understand and we know it may be difficult to comprehend our presence in something that happened more than two thousand years ago.”

“But it happened, and the gravity of this business lied in that we remembered how bad those days were.” Continued Celeborn. “That’s why the news about Dol-Guldur and the Nogrod Ring are something we should look into.”

Thorin brought the hand of the elf to his lips, Thranduil offered a weak smiled while arching his brow at the King. While the rest of the room was soon engaged in a discussion, Thorin could not shake the feeling of what had been told during the meeting.

“Thorin!” Dís spoke loudly making the Dwarven-King jumped startle and turned to the rest of the presents in the room.

“I apologize.” Thorin cleared his throat trying to get under control his facial features when he realized everyone was giving him a knowing stare, he turned to Gandalf who was just as amused as the rest of the table. “I…What were we talking about?”

Dís rolled her eyes while the others merely chuckled, “We were talking about what to do with this ring. Obviously, there is some dark magic at work in here, this ring represents a growing darkness in the world and the fact it was brought directly by the servants of Dol-Guldur should be a sign for us.”

“A signs that this ring should be kept hidden.” Balin continued.

“But, you’re the only one who can give it up.” Gandalf commented.

Thorin glanced at the ring, then at the one he was wearing and finally at the people in the room. “I do not care for this ring, I knew there was something strange about it the moment father started wearing it. I shall keep it hidden if this is agreeable to everyone.”

“Even if it is born out of evil intentions, the ring should remain with you, King Thorin.” Elrond said firmly. “Now, what we should do is plan our actions for the near future for, if this ring has come forward then more of them could be out there.”

“And we do not know what other dangers they hide.” Celeborn commented, everyone seemed to be in agreement to this but it was Bard the one who ask what the dwarves were thinking.

“So, my noble sires, what should we do? For this is a new kind of evil not me or even the dwarves of Erebor has faced before today.”

“I agreed with King Bard, what should we do now that the evil lurking in the world has been uncovered?” Dwalin chimed in looking around the table until his eyes fell upon Thorin.

The meeting then changed its tone, tension was still present but the discussion involved the course of action the three races should take in protection of their lands and their lives. It wasn’t until the afternoon had fallen that they left the Council room with wariness and tiredness filling their minds and hearts. No one dare to ask what had been discussed in the Council room, but for many of the Dwarves of Erebor it was evident something of great importance had been discussed; only time would tell if the measures taken inside the room would be of any use to the growing darkness in the world.

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Thranduil felt the fresh breeze of summer on his face, his hair still wet from the bath while his naked chest welcome the warm change in the weather. He opened his eyes to the sky while admiring the millions of stars covering the earth, the moon growing bigger as the night advanced and a new day approached.

Thorin sat down with a glass of wine on his hand, his eyes completely centered on the elf standing by the railing in the balcony of the tower rooms. The day had been long and their minds had been heavy with worry when they had stumbled past the doors and laid down on the bed Thranduil had yet to use. Now, after they had given in their desire, the bedsheets were wrinkled and put to the side and they were now resting after a night of lust. Thorin Oakenshield looked down to the red liquid on his cup, his mind had not stopped thinking about the stories told in the Council chambers. All the suffering, all the war…and for what?

“Wars are highly fair, Meleth-nîn.” Thranduil was now facing him, the elf took a step forward then another before sitting on the chair right beside Thorin’s one.

“You were there.” Thorin commented looking over at Thranduil who merely nodded. “How old are you, Thranduil? How many ages have lived on this earth?”

It was the tone of voice what made Thranduil winced, he tilted his head but Thorin had decided to look at the stars above their heads. They had already held this conversation before but this was the very first time Thranduil could see Thorin was considering the age gape between them. The Elven-King considered his answer before he too decided to look at the sky.

“Many ages, _Amrâl_.” Thranduil spoke softly leaving himself open to his lover to make sure his words and his emotions were understood just as he tried to understand what exactly was happening to his lover. “I have seen the world before it changed and I have seen many friends and family died to protect what they loved or thought was right.”

Thorin nodded for he understood this part too well, “How can you take the changing world when you yourself do not change?”

The question caught Thranduil by surprise, the Elven-King straightened up on his chair turning his body to Thorin but the dwarf kept his attention diverted.

“I have changed, Thorin.” Thranduil rested his elbows on his knees looking still at Thorin. “It may not look like this but I am not the same elf I was many years ago.”

Thorin nodded furrowing his brows before he too sat down, but he was still refusing to look at the elf who was trying to understand his lover’s concerns. Thorin glanced at the ground watching his hands and the leggings covering his legs, he took a deep breath feeling the beating of his heart. For a moment he closed his eyes and felt Thranduil there with him, he could feel him in every part of his body, on his skin, on his heart on his very soul; Thorin knew he had changed, he could feel his body giving in the strange changes his union with Thranduil had brought. But he could not imagine enduring the ages of the world while everything around him fall and rise again; was this the reason as to why Thranduil had hardened his heart? Or, why some of the elves seem to stop caring about the outside world? What if….what if he didn’t endure and Thranduil had to keep going without him? What if Thorin was just a blink in the life of the elf?

The night was silent in the highest part of the mountain, while everyone else was eating and sharing conversation while others were getting ready to go to bed or to depart on the following day, their Kings were sharing an intimate moment. Thranduil stood up before kneeling beside Thorin, the dwarf tensed up tilting his head so his dark eyes could see in those blue ones. They were not touching and still Thorin could feel Thranduil closer than he had ever felt anyone before. Thranduil hesitated for a moment before leaning in to kiss Thorin, their kiss was different and yet the very same they had shared since their first time. It was a reassuring touch of the lips and souls, there was a silent message behind the dancing of lips and tongues, Thorin sighed placing his hand on the elf’s head putting him closer. By the time the both of them pulled apart they were breathless, their foreheads touching with their eyes beating at the same time.

“Are you going to kiss me whenever you don’t know how to continue a conversation?” Thorin asked with some teasing in his tone.

“Did it work?” Thranduil replied smiling back, Thorin chuckled with his eyes gleaming brightly.

“Perhaps, I think I need more convincing.” Thranduil nodded joining their lips again, this time their kiss was short and more passionate than before. But before they could continue and their lust grew Thranduil pulled apart placing his hands on the chest of the dwarf looking at him with seriousness in his expression.

“I could never live in this world if you were to leave, Thorin.” Thranduil lowered his eyes before he faced his lover again. “When someone of my race pledge themselves to a mortal they share the gift of immortality. Live would be unbearable if this was not the case.”

“You’re speaking of those of the race of the Men that had joined their lies with your kin; but we are the first ones to experience this.” Thorin explained. “What if it doesn’t work the same way for us? Our people are known for their enmity.”

“Then, when the time comes I’ll go with you.” Thranduil replied firmly, Thorin chuckled shaking his head.

“I would never allow it. Never.” Thorin shrugged putting Thranduil to him with his fingertips caressing the naked skin of the elf’s chest. “Even if I died I want you to live and to watch over Erebor, to watch over our kin and our children.”

Thranduil swallowed leaning in until he was resting his head on the dwarf’s chest, Thorin felt the uneasiness coming from the elf and he cursed himself for bringing such a conversation in the midst of their time alone. The Dwarven-King tried to pour all his love and easiness into the elf in his arms, his fingertips caressed the naked skin and the soft, golden locks while Thranduil tried to find comfort in the beating heart he could feel hammering through the dwarf’s chest.

“We should go to Mirkwood.” Thorin said suddenly and he was glad he did for Thranduil’s expression changed suddenly, the elf’s face lit up completely and his eyes gleamed with hope.

“Do you mean it?”

“You shouldn’t sound so surprised, Mirkwood is now part of Erebor. We are the Kings of two Kingdoms and your naming should be made official sooner or later.” Thorin explained.

“True, oh, how wise have you become, King Under the Mountain.” Thranduil smirked when Thorin could only roll his eyes.

“I have always been wise, you’re just too daft to notice it.” Thorin laughed enjoying the expression from his lover.

Thranduil pushed Thorin back standing up while moving backwards, slowly and with a wicked smile adorning his face.

“Oh, my King, you should have not say that…for now, we will see who will fulfil the wicked imageries of your mind.” Thranduil smirked one last time before closing the door behind him and going back into the room.

Thorin sat there for a moment, he chuckled shaking his head before placing his glass of wine on the ground. The Dwarven-King stood up ready to join his husband in the chambers, he tried to ease his worries for it was far too early in their lives and in their reign to worry about this; time would tell what they should do and whatever were to come he knew the both of them would be ready to face it. Thorin stepped forward feeling his knees going weak at the sight of the elf waiting for him.

The rest of the night both of them spent it trying to reassure one another of the years to come.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

The morning arrived with the Elven camp already gone and everyone getting ready to go back home.

Thorin approached the committee that came from Rivendell and the ones who would go along with his sister and her son and husband. The Dwarven-King approached the half-elf with Bilbo walking beside him, Elrond turned to them smiling softly before placing his hand on his chest and giving both of them a bow of his head.

“King Thorin, Master Baggins.” Elrond smiled when Bilbo approached him with a huge grin on his face and the clothes and the ring that identified him as the King’s Chamberlain. “This new position suits you, Bilbo.”

“I feel comfortable with it.” Bilbo commented lifting his arms to show Elrond a box he brought with him. “Please, Lord Elrond received this as a thank you from the Kingdom of Erebor.”

“I hope it is of your liking.” Thorin commented waving his hand. “We have already given something to your children.”

Elrond bowed his head again taking the box in his hand, “Thank you, King Thorin. Though you didn’t need to do this.”

Thorin shook his head, “Nonsense. As long as there is wealth in the mountain we shall always honoured our friends with tokens of friendship.”

Elrond kept his grey eyes on the dwarf, he was looking with hardened expression and wisdom behind his eyes. His hands open the box to reveal a beautiful circlet forged in silver and emeralds, when Elrond returned his attention to Thorin he saw the King with a new light. Not because of the gift, but because he could see the changes working on him already. Thorin had been changing as much as Thranduil had been changed by the dwarf, the Lord of Rivendell smiled before putting the gift away.

“Thank you, King Thorin.” Elrond then stepped forward looking from Bilbo to Thorin. “Now, let me then give you a gift of my own.”

“A gift?” Thorin asked furrowing his brows in confusion.

“Yes, though it is more a word of advice than anything else.” Bilbo stared at the elf with suspicion, while Thorin seemed completely intrigued. Elrond leaned forward placing his right hand on the dwarf’s shoulder. “While it is true your union with Thranduil is the very first amongst our races, it doesn’t mean it shall be any different than other unions we have done with mortals. The key, King Thorin, behind your happiness and your complete union is for you to understand and give up your life as it is right now. When you finally give in and leave your live behind then, and only then, can your love with Thranduil flourish in the ways you and him are waiting for.”

Thorin furrowed his brows in confusion but before he could comment on the advice Elrond had given to him Thranduil arrived smiling gently at them.

“When will I see you again, old friend?” Thranduil stood beside Elrond without noticing the confused expression of his lover.

Elrond shrugged placing his right arm on his chest, “When you decide to come to Rivendell. Both of you are invited to come whenever you want, my home is always open for those who seek refuge.”

Thranduil chuckled placing his own right arm on his chest, “Our home is open as well, whenever you want a change of scenery.”

Elrond bowed his head stretching his right arm in a good-bye gesture, Thranduil repeated the same action before he found himself completely shocked when Elrond wrapped his arms around him.

“Take good care, my friend. I leave knowing you are happy and you seem more alive than I have seen you in a long time.” Elrond stepped back composing himself before turning his body to Thorin and Bilbo. “We will see one another soon enough, for now I bid you farewell and thank you your hospitality, King Thorin.”

Thorin bid Elrond good-bye watching as Thranduil moved past them to speak to Arwen and the twins, Bilbo glanced at Thorin furrowing his brows the hobbit bumped against the dwarf but Thorin seemed to be deep in thought after what Elrond had said to him.

“Do not dwell too much on that, Thorin.” Bilbo finally said to which Thorin crossed his arms still confused and concern.

“What Lord Elrond said…”

“Elves are well-known for never giving you a straight answer, they can say yes and no at the same time and never reveal their real intentions.” Bilbo shrugged thought he to seem to think over what Elrond had said to the dwarf. “Do not concern yourself now, Thorin. Go say good bye and you better protect your husband, I just saw King Bard very interested in catching him alone.”

Thorin pursed his lips and, while he wasn’t overly worried about King Bard he decided it was a good excuse to distract himself and to not think of what Elrond had said.  Bilbo watched as Thorin arrived patting Bard on his back with more strength that he probably meant, soon the man and the dwarf were engaged in a conversation with King Tuon and King Erumion joining in.

“So, great Chamberlain of the House of Durín and the Kingdom of Erebor, eh?”

Bilbo lifted his head to see Gandalf looking down at him, his hands busy trying to turn his pipe on. The hobbit nodded smiling a little.

“Yes, I still cannot believe it.”

“Thorin has always had a soft spot for you.” Gandalf commented making patterns with the smoke coming from his pipe. “And, you deserve this new position.”

Bilbo pursed his lips crossing his arms, “How is the Shire?”

Gandalf narrowed his eyes at Bilbo, the hobbit usually asked about home whenever he felt melancholic or something was worrying him. The wizard tried to guess the intentions behind the questioning but he could not find anything out of place from his friend.

“The Shire is doing fine, everyone is still happy ignoring the dangers of the outside world.” Gandalf tilted his head with his eyes focused on the hobbit. “Your cousins from the Tuk side are asking for you whenever I can afford a visit. They wish to see you again.”

“I bet they are!” Bilbo replied shaking his head with a smile on his face. “But, I’m afraid my new responsibilities won’t allow me such a trip. Besides, it has been so long since I was last in the Shire I’m afraid they won’t be looking at me with welcoming eyes.”

“You will never know until you try.” Gandalf replied. “Either way, you should not worry about your responsibilities, I bet King Thorin and King Thranduil would be happy to allow you such a trip.”

“Oh, yes, of that I don’t have any doubt.” Bilbo commented nodding. “However, I cannot leave them alone or else they would never leave the room and the household would be a disaster.”

Gandalf snickered shaking his head, only Bilbo could make such a comment without expecting harsh consequences.

“What are you going to do, Gandalf?” Bilbo asked suddenly. “After the meeting all of you seemed rather strange. What happened there?”

“That, my dear Bilbo you will have to ask Thorin or even King Thranduil, for now I believe I should leave as well.” Gandalf glanced at the group of the Dúnedain who were now speaking with Thorin, the Dwarven-King seemed rather busy conversing with Lord Arathorn while Thranduil busied himself with his father.

“I will leave on a mission born out of the very meeting we have yesterday. However, I will be back, soon if I found what I’m looking for on time.”

Bilbo narrowed his eyes before giving up, “Very well, I will ask Thorin later on, now go then! Go to your secret missions and come back soon so we can share food, drinks and my personal storage of Old Toby.”

Gandalf chuckled nodding, “I will hold you to that, Bilbo. Until next time.”

The afternoon was arriving by the time the last of the guests left, Thranduil stood before the gates of Erebor watching as his father rode away in the direction of the forest. The former King of Mirkwood had left ready to make the preparations for his son and son-in-law visit in the following month; Thranduil longed to see his forest again but his heart was also longing for a moment with his son and his husband. Legolas glanced at his father with curiosity while watching as Thorin spoke with Bilbo and Bofur, the mountain soon was returning to normal after bidding their honourable guests good-bye.

“I thought you were going to leave with your grandfather.” Glorfindel stood beside his pupil wearing light clothing.

“He asked me to go with him, but…” Legolas trailed off thinking over his words before shrugging. “Now that I don’t have to hide I just want to be near father.”

“Yes, that would do the both of you some good.” Glorfindel watched as Thranduil soon was engaged in conversation by Dwalin and Dáin.

“Father told me tomorrow we could start my training again.” Legolas smiled happily. “Lord Dáin decided to join in as well and Dwalin wants to come too to see how good in a fight I am.”

“You are the best.” Glorfindel said leaning closer to Legolas. “Tomorrow you will show them.”

Legolas snickered shaking his head, “Father said the same, he even promised me whatever I want if I were to hit Dáin by ‘accident’.”

Glorfindel rolled his eyes watching as Dáin smirked and Thranduil glared angered, it was amusing to see how easy Thranduil fell into Dáin’s games.

“He really should stop falling for Dáin’s provocations.” Glorfindel shook his head but Legolas merely shrugged.

“I think that’s their way of bonding.  I find it more amusing when Thorin gets all jealous.” Legolas sighed looking back at the mountain. “I think I’m hungry for one of Bilbo’s pies.”

“Come then, I know a way inside his home without him noticing.” Glorfindel said winking at his young pupil, Legolas glanced at Glorfindel for a moment before acceding to do it.

Bilbo narrowed his eyes following the two elves with his eyes until he saw a shadow hovering above him, turning around he saw it was Thranduil whose eyes were also following his son and Glorfindel inside the mountain.

“What are they planning to do?” The Elven-King mumbled watching as they disappeared behind the gates.

“I think they are looking for some of my pies.” Bilbo shook his head. “It is not going to go very well since I took most of my thinks to the house Thorin offered me inside the Royal Palace.”

“He really likes your pies, you know?” Thranduil commented looking at Bilbo with a half-smile.

“I know, he and Beleg spend a lot of time in my home before all this mess.” Bilbo then placed his hands inside his pockets lifting his stare to the elf. “He really misses spending time with you, you should go to him.”

Thranduil quirked a brow at Bilbo but the hobbit didn’t even wince under the stare, the elf sighed before agreeing with the hobbit.

“You are right, now that the secret is out I should be near him.” Thranduil tilted his head to see Thorin was speaking with Dwalin and Balin at the moment, the Dwarven-King was pointing at Ravenhill conversing animatedly. “We were planning a training session tomorrow, perhaps after that we can come over to your new home and enjoy a nice lunch and some of your pies. I’m afraid Thorin will be up in Ravenhill tomorrow and I will be left with Legolas for the rest of the day.”

“That sounds like a good plan.” Bilbo nodded smiling. “I will wait for you, all of you since whenever I cook everyone seems to arrive at home whether they are invited or not.”

Thranduil chuckled accepting the invitation before walking away and leaving Bilbo to his duties, the Elven-King soon found himself being grabbed by his husband who was looking more relax and happy than he had seen him in a long time.

“Now we are completely alone.” Thorin declared pointing at the now empty valley and the lack of his friends or other royal committee. “What shall we do, O Elven-King?”

“I can think of a couple of things, but right now I wish to oversee the valley from the tower.” Thranduil replied to which Thorin made a face before nodding.

“Very well, we will sleep in your former room again, but tomorrow we will go back to the Royal Chambers.” Thorin declared crossing his arms with determination.

Thranduil gave him a half-smirk leaning in, “We shall see. How about we play some games back I the room, the winner will decided where we shall rest for the rest of the week.”

Thorin laughed shaking his head while following his lover inside the mountain, “No one would ever believe me how your wicked mind works, _Amrâl_.”

“But, that’s why you love me, is it not?” Thranduil commented smirking lightly at him.

Thorin softened slightly making sure Thranduil could not look away from him as he spoke, “I love you because that and so much more, I cannot imagine myself without you by my side. I love you because you’re the most beautiful creature I have seen in my whole live.”

Thranduil swallowed looking away with a bashful smile on his lips, “You have a way with words, and I’m still surprised you haven’t been engaged before meeting me.”

“No one compares to you, _Amrâl._ No one.”

Thranduil looked around the hall they were in before wrapping his right hand around the coat Thorin was wearing putting the dwarf closer before giving him a kiss. When they parted Thorin was thirsty for more and Thranduil was looking rather shy all of a sudden.

“Let’s go back home before I cannot hold myself and take you right here, right now.”

Thranduil allowed Thorin to drag him all around Erebor before entering the Royal Palace and reaching the tower. While everyone was returning home and the mountain was ready to go to sleep their Kings were enjoying the warm and love they could give to the other, their words of love and pleasure filling the room while the world continued spinning and time started moving forward.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Problems in paradise and Dís is back with some advice and to hear the news Thranduil has yet to give Thorin.


	25. No more hesitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four years have passed and it is time for Thorin to decide what he wants to do and with whom he wants to stay. His decision will change the Kingdoms he and Thranduil had been governing the last four years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys! I'm back with a new chapter. Thank you so much for your patience. Remember English is not my native language so I apologize for any grammar, spelling or funny mistake you may find here.
> 
> Gurth ani chyth vîn! - Death to our enemies 
> 
> Thanu men, Men eleneku menu o bepap opetu ezirak. - my king, I desire you more than an endless vein of mithril
> 
> Men lananubukhs menu - I love you

**Chapter 25**

**No more hesitation**

_4 years later_

Thorin Oakenshield felt the spell behind the air of the forest.

The very first time he put a foot on the forest the atmosphere had almost overwhelmed him, he had felt dizzy and slightly disoriented until Thranduil put a hand on his shoulder and wrapped him in his presence. It had been strange to discover the forest was merely welcoming him feeling the connection h shared with Thranduil, a connection he himself couldn’t understand completely. Thorin had not understand what Legolas meant by this until he was introduced to the council elf the Woodland Realm, it wasn’t until he was seated in the Antler Throne that he began to comprehend the difference between the elves and dwarves in their Kingdoms. While it was true Thranduil was loved and respected, it was also evident the Elven-King had worked hard to earn this kind of respect and loyalty. Thranduil was different as to what he had been back in Erebor, in the Woodland Realm he seemed taller, colder and more calculating; still Thorin could feel the strange energy coming off of him, an energy that connected him to the forest and that connected with the dwarf in a protective gesture.

It had taken some time but, in the end, the forest came to accept him and Thranduil came to teach him how to reach to the magic embed in Mirkwood. Soon, Thorin learnt the ways of the elves, their loves for everything that grow and how deeply connected they were to nature and to living things. Thorin found it curious how easily the elves of Mirkwood had accepted his relationship with Thranduil, he had thought he would find some kind of resistance the same way he found one in Erebor; however, the elves seemed to accept this easily, with one single glance at the both of them after the coronation and Thorin knew he would not found resistance to his ruling much less to the love he shared with Thranduil.

“They can perceive it.” Legolas commented when Thorin pointed this out. “Your connection to my father, they know the both of you have mated and this means you are now one of us.”

At first, Thorin had not understand this. He was far too busy trying to get the hold of two different Kingdoms to pay attention to this words until, a year after their coronation as Kings, Thorin noticed it. He felt the changes in his body, they were slow but they were there. He didn’t get sick, he became more resistant and vigorous with the wrinkles on his face easing up and his eyes glistering with a strange light. He started noticing how easily he could connect with the forest when in another time he needed Thranduil or even Legolas to do so, he started observing how age marked the faces of his friends and family and how time seemed to slow down  for him.  Thorin loved Thranduil more than life itself, he would go to the skies and beyond if only to see the elf happy; but a part of him, a huge part of him, was resisting these changes. His resistance became stubbornness and even fear when, the year prior, Bard had invited them to his son’s coming of age. Bane was looking more and more like his father, his features already hardening into a more mature façade. It had been then when Dáin and Glorfindel had made him realized he would see the world age past him, Thorin would remain while the others would find their final rest in the mountain, or the city of men.

A sound of heavy footsteps broke Thorin’s thoughts.

The Dwarven-King soon discovered he was breathing hard with a layer of sweat covering his dirty face, he glanced upwards to see Legolas looking at him intently. Thorin didn’t need for Legolas to speak to know the elf was concern, he shook his head trying to reassure the elf but Legolas merely pursed his lips pointing with his head some place in between the forest. Thorin tilted his head to see only darkness as the afternoon arrived, he concentrated his senses and could hear the sounds of several footsteps approaching. He looked back up to the branches of the trees to see Legolas getting his bow and arrow at the ready, Thorin smirked fixing his shield and the elven blade in his hand. An unnatural silence surrounded them with a growing tension alerting their senses; Thorin looked out of the corner of his eyes to see something was moving inside the brushwood. Legolas furrowed his brows alerting with a gesture of his hand the rest of the elven soldiers, the Elven-Prince turned to see Beleg crouched behind a fallen tree still as the rest of the elves and the dwarf.

The wind travelled through the forest hiding the scent of the warriors, the creatures were nearing the site of the reunion unaware of the elves and the dwarf waiting for them. Thorin lowed his gaze to the sword the council of elders in Mirkwood had given to him the very first day he had arrived to the forest, Orcrist was its name an elven blade that would turn blue whenever orcs or goblins were nearby. A kingly gift for a King they had proclaimed from the very first day; Thorin had been unsure at first, he had felt anxious about his arrival and the welcoming Mirkwood would give to him. However, he was pleasantly surprised when the elves seemed to accept him in between their ranks with ease and warm smiles. Thranduil had been crown almost as soon as they arrived; he had taken the throne upon his shoulders as if it was something he had done all his life. In a sense, Thorin couldn’t help but envy his husband at the ease to which he took the command of his people; Thranduil was a just and demanding leader, he seemed to always know what to do or what to say without a single trace of doubt on his face or eyes.

Thorin lifted his face remembering the time he had told Thranduil how envious he was of the elf because he seemed born to rule; his lover had looked sad before explaining to Thorin he had to be. _There is no space for weaklings or arrogance; there is no place for someone with my biological characteristics to rule._ Thorin had almost forgotten of the biological order that rule the elves and it was until then he was remembered of Thranduil’s nature as an omega, a creature that was physically able to bear children but that would be incapacitated if he were to procreate. Thranduil had always shown himself cold and distant, strong and ruthless, never before Thorin had thought of vulnerability or weakness as Thranduil’s traits.

The Dwarven-King shivered feeling his cheeks burn, he scowled at himself for letting his memories to get in the way of the mission. He looked up to see Legolas rolling his eyes shaking his head, Thorin shrugged again feeling slightly ashamed of being discovered while thinking about Thranduil. Once his head was back on the forest he realized the creatures had approached the point of reunion without suspecting of the attack, the King Under the Mountain nodded once stepping forward putting his shield in front of him. This was all the signs the elves on the trees need, soon the forest darkened under the rain of arrows falling on the creatures in the middle of the clearing.

_“Gurth ani chyth vîn!”_  The scream of battle broke the noise the giant spiders were making, Thorin advanced with his sword lifted ready to cut off a long leg from one of the creatures.

Different exclamations were heard in the midst of battle, the spiders kept on screeching while Thorin and Beleg were the noisiest ones howling and growling as they moved left and right attacking their enemies. Legolas aimed with perfect precision to his enemies, always making sure his arrows found the head of the foul creatures. Thorin twirled around thrusting the sword to the side while his foot found the body of a spider, the blade cut through the skin of the spider easily black blood tainting the elven blade as Thorin moved onto his next target. The elves soon joined the fight on the ground when more and more spiders started appearing around them, Beleg howled into the forest with his claws piercing down one of the smallest creatures. Legolas turned to the wolf in alarm when he saw his friend being surrounded by two big spiders, he diverted his attention to Beleg jumping down from branch to branch before spinning in the middle of the air and falling on top of one of the spiders, his arrow went straight into the creatures head in one single shot. Beleg growled and swat around with his paws, Legolas smirked putting his blades out of the sheath and entering the fight.

Thorin for his part found himself face to face with one of the biggest spiders, the creature was making strange noises with the fangs of his mouth, those eyes were all gleaming with malice completely focused on him. The Dwarven-King twirled the blade around fixing his shield while stopping the leg of the creature, his right arm advancing with the blade flickering with the light of the sun. Thorin smirked watching as the elven blade pierced the body of the spider, but his victory was short lived for he soon found himself surrounded by two more spiders. The dwarf parried one of the attacks, his feet dancing on the ground to prevent another direct attack to his persona, he glanced around only to discover the rest of the elven guards and warriors were engaged in combat and he was alone to fend his enemies. Thorin lifted the shield again jumping backwards only to feel a sharp pain on his back, he held back his scream turning around with the sword drawing an arch around him only to found the head of a spider. Thorin breathed hard putting Orcrist out of the spider to face the rest of his enemies, he felt something strange on his body, a strange trembling while his vision turned blurry. He stepped forward and soon felt his body giving in, before he hit the ground he saw Beleg jumping down standing before him in a protective manner. The last thought in his conscious mind was that Thranduil was going to kill him.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

The Woodland Realm welcomed the night with magic lights lighting up the trees and the passages inside the city. The sky filled with stars was always visible for the inhabitants of the forest while the frontiers of the Realm were kept heavily guard by dwarves and elves alike.  In the last four years Mirkwood and Erebor had been working together to forge a single Kingdom that would fall in the hands of an heir, but so far it was still govern jointly by the two Kings with many already breaking into rumors about the future of this union and the unfulfilled promise of an heir.

Thranduil, King of Mirkwood and Erebor, sat at the table where the last meeting with the council took place. He leaned back against the chair without bothering to lift his eyes to see Glorfindel approaching him, he rested his chin on top of his hand while his elbow rested on the armchair. The room soon was left in silence while the thoughts of the King seemed to run ashtray in the mind of the elf. Glorfindel approached his friend still frowning after the meeting, he sat down glancing at Thranduil waiting for the King to speak.

“Do you think they are right?” Thranduil finally asked lifting his eyes to stare at Glorfindel, the Captain of the guard pursed his lips tilting his head to the side.

“I think you are thinking too much about this.”

“I know the Council of Erebor told Thorin the same.” Thranduil revealed with a hint of sadness in his voice.

Glorfindel softened slightly leaning forward to rest the weight of his arms on the table, “Thranduil, this things take time. You knew the moment you mated with Thorin creating new life would be difficult.”

Thranduil scowled looking away, “It’s been four years, Glorfindel. It can’t be that hard.”

“You and Thorin are the first ones…”

“…of both races to have such a union. I know.” Thranduil rolled his eyes clenching his fists in frustration. “I know this, I just…I wish there was something I could do, I do not want him…I don’t want him in another’s arms…”

“You won’t.” Glorfindel exclaimed energetically. “Thranduil you won’t accede to this madness and Thorin would be mad if you so much as propose this to him. Do you want to know why Lord Agamm left the council chambers last time with a black eye?”

Thranduil lifted his eyes to his friend, curiosity gleaming behind those blue orbs. On the last meeting, Thranduil had been busy with some of the merchants in the commercial district of Erebor, thus Thorin had attended to the meeting alone only for the meeting to end abruptly and one of the elders to carry a black eye with him. No one had dared to mention the incident after it happened, and Thranduil was kept in the dark about the matter as well. Glorfindel snorted shaking his head as he remembered it as well.

“Lord Agamm proposed one of the daughters of the noble-dwarves of Erebor to carry the heir of Durín. He said other things but never got a chance to finish for Thorin punched him in the face.” Glorfindel shrugged. “Not very Kingly, if you asked me but me and Dwalin found it quite amusing.”

Thranduil tried to smile imagine Thorin hitting one of the council-dwarves, but his worries merely increased. If the council of Erebor had already spoken to Thorin, Thranduil wasn’t sure how much they could keep their people off of this situation until they would have to give in; after all, the Kingdoms couldn’t go without an heir.

Glorfindel stared at his friend before standing up, he positioned himself on the left side of the King resting his hand on the elf’s shoulder. Thranduil lifted his head to see the Captain smiling gently at him.

“Do not worry, do not concern yourself, Thranduil.” Glorfindel sighed looking at some point in the window behind Thranduil. “Do not doubt what you or Thorin feel for each other, or the ability of both of you to create life. The time will come, my friend. If you do not believe me or yourself at least trusts the parting words of Lady Galadriel.”

Thranduil could not answer to the comment, he remembered all too well the conversation he held with the Lady of the Golden Forest the last time she had come to visit. She had smiled before telling Thranduil thanks to him and Thorin there would be a moment in time in which the blood of men, dwarves and elves would join as one and then, then the world would change and peace, at least, would arrive. Thranduil had not understood such words back then, and he certainly didn’t understand them at the moment. Thranduil was about to speak when Galion entered the council chambers with concern on his face, Thranduil furrowed his brows tensing up for even before Galion spoke he felt a sharp pain pierced his back and his limbs shivering with coldness and pain.

“Thorin…” Thranduil stood up, his heart beating fast while Galion bowed before his King.

“My Lord, King Thorin and Prince Legolas are back from the excursion to the forest but…King Thorin was hurt in the battle.”

Glorfindel turned to follow the King alongside Galion, Thranduil felt his heart stop when his eyes fell upon the pale form of Thorin who was now being carried towards the Royal quarters. Thranduil watched as they entered with Thorin unconscious, paled and sweating, the healers had started working almost immediately while the King engulfed his son in a warm hug.

“What happened?” Thranduil inquired coldly, sharply as he turned to the rest of the warriors.

“There were too many spiders, father.” Legolas tried to explain by the King stopped his son lifting a hand.

“The Antler room. Now!” The King’s command was followed immediately with everyone following their King to the Antler room.

The tension was quite palpable there, Thranduil felt his heart beating fast while his body shared in the pain his lover was feeling at the moment. The King wanted to be near Thorin, but he needed to clarify the situation before joining Thorin; he stepped forward standing before his throne shooting heated glares to all the presents. Beleg curled up before him, his ears were lowered and he didn’t move sensing the wrath coming from the King.

His wrath didn’t wait to be expressed for he soon put his elves in front of him demanding for answers. No one seemed ready to admit their mistake, no one was ready to say lately King Thorin had become even more reckless than he was. But all the elves explained with detail the course of action they had taken to dismantle the spider’s nest located so near the Elven Road. Thranduil listened before voicing his disappointment, his back pulsated with pain again and the King merely waved his hand dismissing the elves. All of them looked at one another, lowering their heads in shame before leaving the room. Only Legolas remained, the Prince stared as his father with sympathy before approaching his King; the young Prince placed his hand on Thranduil’s shoulder squeezing lightly.  The King sat down looking at the ground with obvious pain in his eyes, a pain he was only revealing to his son, the young elf approached him sitting down beside his father.

“Father, he is going to be fine.” Legolas placed his hand on top of Thranduil’s one, the King smiled weakly at him but was unable to say anything in return. “It was no one’s fault, you know? There were just too many, the spiders are becoming more daring and stronger…”

Legolas trailed off when the gates of the Antler Room opened up and one of the healers enter the room, Thranduil lifted his head and Legolas could see his cold façade was back in place. The healer bowed down.

“My King, King Thorin is out of danger, but…” The healer trailed off hesitating for a moment, Thranduil stood up stepping forward placing his hands behind his back.

“Speak up.” He commanded tilting his head.

“My Lord, may I ask you something rather personal?” The healer inquired with a trembling voice, Thranduil narrowed his eyes nodding curtly.

The healer tensed up feeling the stare of his King and the Prince on him, the elf glanced at Thranduil before speaking again.

“Did you feel when King Thorin was hurt in battle?” The healer observed as his King narrowed his eyes, Thranduil tilted his head before answering.

“I felt the wound when he arrived to the Palace.”

The healer nodded furrowing his brows, “And, have the both of you completed the…the rituals of mating?”

Thranduil scowled while Legolas stood up growling at the daring question, the healer lowered his head apologizing before his lords.

“You dare to ask this to your King and Lord?” Legolas inquired stepping forward, Thranduil however lifted a hand stopping his son.

The healer felt his cheeks burnt in shame, he didn’t dare to lift his eyes but spoke up with trembling voice.

“My…My Lord, it is not my intension to offend. However, I do inquire this because when…when taking care of King Thorin we noticed he…” The healer trailed off for a second before clearing his throat. “He is not…I mean, there is something wrong with his fëa.”

“Whatever you mean by this?” Thranduil asked in a dangerous low voice.

“My Lord, the accounts we have of mortals mating with elves told of their fëa changing gradually allowing them…”

“Immortal life, I know.” Thranduil interrupted sharply. “What I want to know is why you are telling me there is something wrong with Thorin’s one.”

The healer looked from Thranduil to Legolas then back to the ground, “His is just flickering, my Lord. It’s…It’s as if his mortal life is still there and the only change in him is his deep connection to you.”

*****

In all the time they had been together, this was the very first time Thorin was resting on his back with such a peaceful façade. The Dwarven-King was breathing hard still, his chest was covered with white, linen bandages while his face was illuminated by the silver light of the moon sneaking through the open windows of the room. Thranduil sighed in relief, his eyes taking in the sleeping form of the dwarf as he approached the bed tentatively. The elf sat down facing Thorin, his hand lifted to brush the hair away from the dwarf’s face. Thranduil leaned in placing a soft kiss on his lovers lips, his heart shrank in deep emotion while his back seemed to pulsate under the memory of the wound.

With his eyes still close, Thranduil lowered his defenses letting his fëa to run freely around the Dwarven-King. The Elven-King felt tears in his eyes, he furrowed his brows scolding at himself for never noticed the flickering in Thorin’s soul. Why? Why was happening this? Was it the poison of the spider, perhaps? Thranduil sighed brushing the dark, locks of Thorin’s hair before placing another kiss on the dwarf’s lips. He laid on his side placing his hand on top of Thorin’s chest, right above the dwarf’s heart; with his eyes now opened Thranduil rejoiced in the sight of his life forced joined to that of Thorin, gold and blue mingled as one. He was about to move his hand from the dwarf’s chest when Thorin placed his left hand on top of his, Thranduil swallowed his own weakness and tears while Thorin fluttered his eyes opened tilting his head to see the elf staring at him.

“How mad are you with me?” Thorin inquired with a half smiled adorning his features, he looked tired with his eyes closing for a few seconds before opening them.

“I’m tempted to push you out of bed. Perhaps, feed you to the spider’s nest” Thranduil replied while Thorin chuckled wincing in pain. “You were reckless, you didn’t think about the dangers of the mission.”

“I did, I did everything I have to.” Thorin replied slightly annoyed.

“They told me you have become reckless.” Thranduil commented scowling at his lover.

“They are exaggerating. You elves are used to do things in different ways, you are to patient.” Thorin said. “I cannot wait while I know my Kingdoms are in danger. I do not have the time.”

“Oh, but you do.” Thranduil mumbled and suddenly he closed his mouth, watching as Thorin looked away from him.

They went silent for a long time, both of them thinking there was more to say but not knowing how else to say it or what exactly should they say it. Thorin found himself thinking back to the conversation he held with Dáin and Glorfindel a long time ago; time was all he was going to have after having mated with Thranduil. Immortal life would allow him to see the world change before his eyes while everything he knew once would move past him, his friends, his family, even his Kingdom. The weight of this thought had put anguish in his mind and soul; he had started doubting what he really wanted and what the future would bring. As if this wasn’t enough, the council of Erebor was pressing him to either ensure an heir with Thranduil or to accept a second partner to keep the Durín bloodline. Thorin shook his head turning to see Thranduil was watching him intently, as if this was the first time he saw him, Thorin felt his heart skipped a beat and his body tingle at the closeness.

“Amrâl.” Thorin mumbled turning on his right side so he could see the elf better. “I love you.”

Thranduil softened leaning into the touch of his lover, he leaned in feeling those lips brush against his and for a moment everything was right in the world.

“I’m still mad at you.” Thranduil finally said, Thorin nodded smiling softly at him.

“Good, the reconciliation sex is always the best.” Thorin closed his eyes enjoying the sweet sound of Thranduil’s laughter, and just like this the dwarf fall asleep with Thranduil snuggling closer to him.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Autumn was reaching its end welcoming the cold waves of winter with darkened skies and warm fires in the cities.

The Elven Road lit up to welcome the sister and nephew of their King, the traveling dwarves marveled at the different lights forming a safe passage to the Woodland Realm. Standing before the Palace, Thorin and Thranduil smiled when Dís approached them with Fíli running straight ahead to greet his uncle. Thorin laughed hugging his nephew, ruffling his hair before the boy stepped back fixing his hair only to turn to Thranduil and engulfed him in a hug as well. Thranduil softened, his lips forming a half-smirk as he too ruffled the child’s hair under the astonished and rather annoyed glance of Fíli. The young dwarf pouted fixing his hair, while Dís gave her brother a tight hug, smiling at the Elven-King who was watching from afar as the rest of the elves welcomed the dwarven committee coming from Ered Luin. Fíli was looking around anxiously, his hand was grabbing something hanging from his neck while his eyes narrowed trying to look through the trees and the columns adorning the gates of the Woodland Realm. The young Prince was now nine years old with long, dark, blond hair and his second braid of youth hanging from his short hair; Fíli was about to question his uncle when someone tapped his shoulder, he turned to the left confused before he heard a familiar snicker.

“Legolas!” Fíli smiled brightly as the young elf ruffled his hair playfully.

“That’s Prince Legolas to you, Fíli.” Legolas grinned watching as Fíli stepped back fixing his hair while glaring mockingly at Legolas.

“Yeah? Well, that’s Prince Fíli to you!” Fíli eyed Legolas pouting under the amused expression of the Elven-Prince. “You should stopped messing with my hair, I’m trying to grow it along my beard.”

Thorin chuckled glancing at his sister wiggling his eyebrows, the she-dwarf rolled her eyes moving past Thorin to bow before Thranduil. The Elven-King bowed back offering a half-smile to Dís before stepping forward and hugging her as well.

“Good to see you again, Thranduil.”

“It is good to see you too, Dís. How was the trip?”

The committee from Ered Luin followed the welcoming party from the Woodland Realm, Dís looked around noticing the security had grown since she last came the year prior. They were redirected to the Royal Palace while Thranduil and Dís spoke about the trip, Thorin stepped back watching them with a half-smile on his lips. Legolas for his part was enjoying the different stories Fíli was telling him about the people they had crossed on their trip, night was already falling by the time everyone was sitting at the table in the private dining room of the Kings. The welcoming feast would take place in Erebor where the celebrations of the Day of Durín would take place, meanwhile they could enjoy a quiet night with their family as the news of the trip and simple things engulfed the conversation of the night.

The table was filled with food and drinks, Dís observed her brother had been unusually quiet while Thranduil seemed to be speaking for the both of them. When the Queen turned her stare to Legolas she saw the light frown marking the smooth forehead of the Prince, Fíli was the one filling the silence alongside Thranduil with excited conversation while trying to take as many food as his mouth allowed him.

“Uncle, would you take me to Dale?” Fíli asked suddenly directing his big eyes to Thranduil.

“Dale?” Thranduil asked confusedly, Thorin arched a brow at his nephew then at his husband.

Fíli nodded lowering his gaze with a soft blush adorning his cheeks, “Yeah, I just…Bain told me I could come over when I was back and he could teach me some tricks.”

“Tricks? And what kind of tricks are you going to learn from Prince Bain?” Dís leaned forward placing her elbows on the table while shooting her son an inquisitive stare.

Fíli pressed his lips together glancing everywhere but at her mother and Legolas who was also pretty interested in the conversation. Thorin shook his head lifting his cup watching amusedly the scene, Thranduil softened slightly deciding whatever the child was going to do in Dale couldn’t be so bad. Besides, Bain was a good lad, whatever tricks he might teach Fíli would be nothing but hunting or fighting ones.

“Of course I will take you there. We can change our route back to Erebor and make a quick trip to Dale, though you should know Prince Bain and the rest of his family is also invited to the Day of Durín.” Thranduil could see the child thinking over this until he shook his head.

“I know, but it’s not the same.” Fíli mumbled opening his eyes slightly, Dís snorted leaning back with a knowing grin on her lips.

“My dear son takes after you more than we care to admit, Thorin.” The she-dwarf stated chuckling when Fíli looked suddenly mortified and Thorin and Legolas seemed slightly puzzled by this.

“Mother…” Fíli trailed off deciding the best way to hide his embarrassment was to put another piece of meat on his mouth.

The rest of the night was spent with light conversation about the happenings of the Kingdoms, the different problems or situations involving governing two different races and two different Kingdoms. Soon the conversation became a political one, they spoke about alliances and enemies, about the growing shadow in the Mount Doom and the tension that could be felt in Middle Earth. Legolas would participate from time to time until he noticed Fíli nodding off on his chair, the Elven-Prince smiled standing up to make his way towards the Dwarven-Prince.

“If you excuse me, I believe this little guy needs to go to sleep.” Legolas picked him up and soon Fíli snuggled closer to him falling asleep almost immediately.

“I believe it is time for all of us to go to sleep.” Dís commented watching the two Princes with fondness. “The trip was a long one and tomorrow we are marching back to Erebor.”

“Yes, you’re right. I received a letter from Bilbo telling me everything was ready for our return.” Thorin stood up making his way towards his sister. “It’s good to see you again, Dís.”

“You dork, it is always good to see you.” Dís kissed her brother on the forehead glancing at Thranduil who was still sitting at the table. “We will speak later, now I believe I better go to sleep. Good night.”

Thorin waited until he was left alone with Thranduil, he tilted his head to see his husband was glancing at the cup of wine on his hand. The Dwarven-King approached Thranduil placing his hand under the elf’s chin, their eyes met sending shivers down Thranduil’s back. Even after four years, Thorin looked at him as if he was just discovering the world behind Thranduil’s blue eyes. The Dwarven-King leaned forward placing entrancing kisses on the elf’s chin, his beard scratching the smooth skin while those lips mapped out the elven face.

“Is everything all right?” Thorin finally asked with his lips curling up and his eyes gleaming mischievously, he kept kissing the elf’s ears having learnt a long time ago Thranduil was highly sensitive to any touch on his ears.

The elf swallowed tightening his hold on the cup while his eyes fluttered closed enjoying the sensation, Thorin nibble on the earlobe tickling the elf’s face with his beard.

“I’m tired.” Thranduil finally whispered shivering when Thorin placed his hand on the elf’s thigh.

“You don’t look tired to me.” Thorin replied chuckling as his hand travelled up the elf’s thigh.

“I hate you.” Thranduil finally growled out pushing Thorin off of him before crashing their lips in a heated kiss. Thorin smirked in triumph when their lips met and their hands began their exploration, the Dwarven-King took Thranduil in body and soul trying to ease the elf’s worries and tiredness.

For the rest of the night, Thorin made sure Thranduil forget the shadow of the growing threat in the South. He hated it whenever their conversations turned to the wars of the past and the invisible enemies still out there waiting to catch the line of Durín off guard. Thorin loved Thranduil all through the night making sure, even if it was for a night, that his lover forgot the troubles of the world.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

The sun was at its highest point in the sky, its golden rays reflecting the shadows of the dwarven folk working on the land before the Valley of Erebor.

The roads filled with the many visitors who had come exclusively to the celebration of the Day of Durín, the merchants had already placed their booths to display the goods they had made, collect, trade or even grow back in their homes. The Valley of Erebor was a busy area, the very first place that welcomed the travelers of distant lands while it was overlooked by the Lonely Mountain and the fortress of Ravenhill. The people of Erebor raised great ovations when they saw their King approaching the mountain; Thorin was received with laughter and music and everyone seemed to leave what they were doing to see their King arriving to Erebor in time for the celebrations. Dís watched as her brother smiled greeting his people allowing many of the children approached his pony while his elven and dwarven guards flanked him from the distance.

“I’m always surprised at these welcoming parties.” Legolas commented riding beside Dís, the she-dwarf nodded glancing at Legolas who was also being cheered as much as Thorin.

“They love you, and rightfully so, you have been a good Prince to them.” Dís said smiling at the elf who lowered his gaze rather shyly.

“I have come to love them as well.” Legolas turned his head to see the city of Dale in the distance. “You know? Father and Fíli were quite mysterious, what do you think he is doing over there?”

Dís quirked a brow eyeing the elf before shrugging, “I do not know, but do not concern yourself, Prince Legolas. When the time is right Fíli will tell you.”

Legolas pursed his lips feeling slightly rejected by the young Prince, it was usually him the one to join him in crazy adventures and the one taking him on long trips. Legolas turned to Thorin to see that even if he was smiling, Thorin was also missing someone. Thorin left his pony making his way towards Bilbo who was grinning from ear to ear, beside him Balin and Dwalin were also smiling alongside the rest of the company.

“Welcome back, King Thorin.” Bilbo bowed and the rest of the dwarves followed him in the gesture.

“Nonsense, Master Baggins, I have told you countless of times friends do not greet friend in such a way.” Thorin said placing his hands on top of Bilbo’s shoulders.

“And I have told you protocol demands of me to greet you in such a way first, before going into more familiar settings.” Bilbo replied rolling his eyes before engulfing the dwarf in a hug. “I missed you my friend.”

“I missed you too, all of you, there is no place like home.” Thorin whispered. “Just don’t tell Thranduil I said this as if I don’t like going to the forest.”

Bilbo laughed shaking his head nodding to the mountain, “Let’s go inside.”

“Wait a second, where’s Thranduil?” Bofur inquired looking around, it was then the rest of the company turned to the rather gloomy Thorin and the confused Legolas.

Dís shook her head, “Thranduil went with my son to the city of Dale Captain Glorfindel and Captain Farin are with them.”

“Dale? Whatever for?” Bofur asked again following the rest of the company, Thorin, Legolas and Dís inside the mountain.

“That’s what I would like to know but, apparently, my nephew had some secret dealings there.” Thorin replied. “Come, my friends, there is much to talk about before we get ready for the celebrations.”

As it was tradition amongst them, Thorin went to Bilbo’s home to enjoy a late lunch alongside Legolas, Dís and the rest of the company. The conversation was light and filled with amusement and improper joking, Thorin laughed relaxing under the company of his friends while everyone told different stories of what had happened in the King’s absence. It wasn’t as if Thorin didn’t know most of these happenings already, the arrangement between both Kingdoms was that their King’s would stay in one place for a considerable amount of time before moving to the other one; this was to be done until an heir would be born and then they could stay far longer in one of the Kingdoms. So far this arrangement had worked just fine, Thorin and Thranduil knew how their Kingdoms worked and were learning how the other one worked, between the two of them Mirkwood and Erebor had prospered growing and mixing up even more than ever. While it was still unusual to see it, some of the dwarves had started inhabiting the forest as well as some of the elves had started inhabiting the mountain. Usually, the elves coming to stay in Erebor were those who had found a love for crafting and mining and some of the dwarves staying back in Mirkwood were those who found more fulfilling a live under the stars caring for the living things that grow.

Bilbo and Dís were fixing the afternoon tea while the rest sat comfortable around the table, Bofur glanced at Thorin for a moment before breaking the silence.

“Now, my King, don’t get me wrong, I know you and Thranduil enjoy the company of one another as often as you guys can.” Balin rolled his eyes while Orí, Nori and Dori chuckled, Legolas snorted hiding his face behind the cup Bilbo had just given to him.

“Thank you, Master Bofur for such an insightful comment.” Thorin grumbled leaning back against his chair, Bofur looked sheepishly at him.

“Sorry, just…Look, we’ve been talking mostly ‘cuz we heard about the meeting with the council.” Bofur commented, Thorin tensed up already knowing what his friend was about to ask. “And we were wondering if you two are working on a little dwelf already.”

Dís arched a brow nodding to Dwalin who slapped Bofur on his arm, the dwarf scowled rubbing his arm. Thorin shook his head looking around the room aware of the stares of his friends, his sister and Legolas on him.

“What did the council tell you?” Legolas inquired serious.

“They are asking for an heir.” Thorin replied looking at Legolas. “An heir with the blood of Durín on him.”

Legolas scrunched up his nose feeling hurt by this, he leaned back and was soon surprised by a hand placed on his shoulder. He hadn’t seen or heard when Thorin had approached him, the Dwarven-King smiled reassuringly at him before turning to the room.

“I told them I already have an heir, I don’t need another one.”

Legolas was tempted to smile until he understood such words, he glanced at Thorin in confusion but the King merely shook his head. Dwalin turned to Balin who was looking conflicted for a moment, it was Dís the one to notice there was something else at play in here and it was her the one who cleared her throat facing the room with determination.

“Very well, spill it. What happen?”

“The council was asking us to propose to the King a solution.” Balin commented. “You just have to choose one respectful dwarven maiden, you don’t need to marry her only to…”

“To have a sweet child with her.” Bombur chimed in.

“And then, the child will be yours and Thranduil’s.” Bilbo finished wincing under the infuriate stare of Thorin.

“This is outrageous!” Thorin exclaimed. “I’m going…”

“To do nothing.” Dís said standing beside her brother, Thorin turned sharply towards her his eyes gleaming angrily but the she-dwarf was looking serene.

“You will have me done this to Thranduil?” Thorin asked trembling in ager.

“No, of course not.” Dís looked around the room, her eyes resting on Legolas who was looking just as outrage as Thorin. “Come, it is time for you and me to have a long talk.”

No one dare to do or say nothing, Legolas watched as Dís sneaked out of Bilbo’s home from the back door. The room was left in a deep, uncomfortable silence; Bofur lowered his gaze feeling guilty for starting the conversation. Legolas saw Bilbo staring at him with some sympathy there, the Elven-Prince sighed pursing his lips for a moment before breaking the silence.

“You know? Father had a conversation like this one with the council in Mirkwood.” He finally revealed.

“Did he hit someone in the council?” Dwalin asked with a hint of curiosity in his voice, Legolas frowned shaking his head.

“Of course not! Father is not…Wait a minute, Thorin hit someone in the council?” Legolas asked shocked, the rest of the dwarves looked at one another before nodding.

“He is that extreme. He would never accede to such a thing.” Bilbo said sitting down.

“It is just a matter of time, you know?” Legolas said softly. “Father and Thorin loved too much, their far too joined for them to not…you know…”

Bilbo stared at Legolas with attention, his heart tingling in sympathy for the Elven-Prince who was trying to look at ease under the circumstances. However, Bilbo could see this conversation had affected him in some way, Legolas seemed contemplative and rather quiet all of a sudden. Bilbo took another sip from his cup watching the back door where Dís and Thorin had disappeared moments ago, all they had to do now was wait and hope.

*****

It had been years and years since they both had been on Thorin’s secret spot.

Thorin sat down tiredly while Dís glanced at him with a calculating stare, the she-dwarf circled her brother before she too sat down.

“I knew there was something bothering you and Thranduil.” Dís said suddenly. “How long have this been going on?”

“Almost eight months.” Thorin replied. “The council was waiting for us to get use to the ruling and all our duties but, after a while, they started making questions.”

Thorin closed his eyes massaging the bridge of his nose, he glanced at the ceiling of the cave enjoying the patterns of the rock above his head and the sound of water coming from the distance. The Dwarven-King felt at ease in this place, his soul resting comfortably while his body enjoyed the enclosed space of the mountain. Dís pursed her lips still eyeing her brother while also finding herself enjoying the cavern.

“Does Thranduil know about this?” Thorin winced and Dís couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “You haven’t told him.”

“No, I have not.”

“You must know by now he must be suspecting this.” Dís saw as Thorin nodded curtly with his eyes closed.

“Probably, he has been acting strangely lately.” Thorin sat down takin his crown off of his head and placing it to his right side. “I love him, Dís, I love him more than my life and everything in this world but…”

Dís furrowed her brows watching the conflicting emotions flickering on her brother’s eyes, Thorin frowned clenching his fists tightly.

“But, I’m afraid.” Thorin finally said through gritted teeth. “I do not think I could endure the hardships of eternal life.”

“Immortal life.” Dís commented lightly placing her hand on top of Thorin’s clenched one.

“I’ve been trying, you know? To be a good husband and a good King, trying to procure an heir.” Thorin smiled a little remembering with fondness all those nights and days shared with Thranduil.

“Thorin, don’t try it. Do it.” Dís shook her head chuckling softly. “Sometimes I think we were born in the wrong order.”

“I know, you’ve always been the more mature one.” Thorin smiled back, he sighed lowering his gaze again. “I just…I do not know if I am going to be capable of seeing what I love growing old while I remain.”

“But, you just told me you love Thranduil more than life itself.” Dís squeezed her brother’s hand tightly. “Thorin, you have been given a great gift that not many had the chance to discover in this life. Finding love, Thorin, the one meant to be with you…that’s invaluable.”

Thorin swallowed nodding, “I know.”

“You will see your child grow, Thorin. And then you will see your grandchild and the children after him.” Dís tried to reassure her brother, in her heart she understood Thorin’s anguish for she had felt it as well.

When she learnt of the immortal life Thorin was now to share with Thranduil, she felt scared for him. She could not imagine remaining the same while the rest of her world kept moving forward in time; Dís even thought of watching Fíli grow old and then dying of old age with her still present, still the same. The Queen of Ered Luin sat back on the ground glancing at the ceiling of the cave.

“It has been a hard year.” Thorin finally said. “I realized I am changing. I’m not sure I deserve most of these changes or if I am the right one for Thranduil.”

“Don’t be a fool. He loves you, he loves you so much even after all this time I can still see the love-struck expression on his eyes.” Dís leaned back resting her back on the grass in the cave, Thorin arched a brow at her chuckling when his mind brought the memories of them as children.

“Do you remember when Frerin brought his things here saying he was going to live here?” Thorin grinned at Dís who was chuckling softly. “He fixed everything and was ready to spend the night here…”

“And then came running to your room saying he heard a strange sound and that he was not coming back.” Dís laughed. “He didn’t even last half an hour.”

Thorin started laughing as well shaking his head, “And then he had to come back because we refused to come here for his things.”

“Then father brought him new things because he never claimed them back.” Dís finished shaking her head.

“Yeah.” Thorin sighed watching the green cord around his wrist, the symbol of his marriage with the elf.

“I won’t take anyone to have a child for me.” Thorin said with resolution. “Thranduil is all I need. Legolas can take over if anything were to happen to me.”

“I know.” Dís sat up placing her hand on Thorin’s shoulder. “I’m with you, Thorin. But, I know you won’t have to wait too long…”

Thorin felt the gaze of his sister pierced through his mind and heart, he could see how she was working the right words for him because the conversation was far from over. Thorin knew as a King, he needed to offer a better solution to this dilemma, but he could do nothing while his mind was busy thinking about what he could no longer control. Thorin waited until Dís started speaking again, as she spoke softly and reassuringly at him, Thorin realized he was finally giving in his fears.

“A few days ago a spider stung me.” Thorin commented. “It was nothing, just pain and poison and nothing else.”

“Yes, nothing else.” Dís mumbled dryly, Thorin snorted shrugging.

“It really was nothing but I realized, or I finally admitted I was being reckless.” Thorin locked his eyes with his sister’s ones speaking as if he was trying to hide their conversation for prying eyes. “Thranduil thought I wouldn’t notice but…I could feel him, I could sense him trying to touch my…my fëa…I try to deny him this and I felt cold and sad, I feel as if the world was about to end and when I opened my eyes and saw him he was…”

“He looked as if his world was over.” Dís finished the sentence to which Thorin nodded.

“But then, he touched me again, with his hand and his soul and…” Thorin furrowed his brows. “It sounds utterly ridiculous if you think about it. It doesn’t make any sense and yet I could spend all the eternity by his side without doubting my decision or questioning my love for him.”

“It was never a question about love, Thorin. It was better you were ready for an immortal life.” Dís curled up her lips bumping her shoulder with Thorin’s one. “You will be the first Dwarf ever to share this, Thorin. Don’t mess it up.”

Thorin chuckled nodding, “I won’t, I promise.”

“I know it won’t be easy, Thorin. I cannot imagine what it is that you feel or what is really happening to you.” Dís made sure her brother was looking at her as she spoke clearly. “All I know, Thorin is that you love Thranduil and Thranduil loves you, whatever the future may bring you have to just give in already because Thranduil has given all of himself to you and you are still doubting. He doesn’t deserve this.”

Thorin nodded remembering the wound he had on his back, the warm he felt when Thranduil had reached out to him through his soul before doing so with his flesh. The Dwarven-King soon realized he could not live without the elf and he knew with certainty Thranduil could not live without him; they had given themselves to the other in ways not many do. Dís was right, it was about time he gave everything he was to Thranduil without doubting or wondering if he should or if he was ready or if it was the right thing to do.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

The Day of Durín was received with fireworks breaking into the sky.

The colors mixed with the different forms Gandalf seemed to create out of his repertoire of fireworks, the wizard chuckled as he let free some small lights for the children to hunt down. The people of Erebor alongside the guests all were enjoying the festivities after the ritual of welcoming the last moon of autumn and the oncoming winter. Stories about Dwarven folk were told and those foreign ears that wanted to hear them usually share two or more glasses of ale with the inhabitants of the mountain.

The celebrations of the day were over and now the feast was about to start, a feast the Kings Under the Mountain were to precede while sharing the table with the dignitaries of other lands. Thranduil had learnt, long ago, of his duties as a King of the Dwarves. He knew the eyes of the Kingdom would be on him, as they usually were, ready to judge or to praise his performance during the festival. The Elven-King admired his figure one last time before turning to leave the bathroom and join his lover so they could share the feast with their family, friends and allies.

Thorin entered his room already having changed his ceremonial clothing for something lighter, he was struggling with the neck of his shirt when Thranduil appeared from behind the bathroom door. Thorin had always admired the beauty of his husband; he had always seemed fascinated by the golden locks falling softly on the elf’s back, those deep, blue eyes always glistening with life and mischief whenever they stared at Thorin. His skin, smooth and white, was a marvel to taste and mark; Thorin enjoyed how he could kiss, touch and imprint his mark on the elf while Thranduil would allow his beautiful voice to whisper or moan his name. In few words, for Thorin there was no one more beautiful than Thranduil and his love for him was something Thorin sometimes could not even fathom himself.

And yet, in just a few minutes, his husband could surprise him with such an entrancing sight. Standing before him, with the light of the fireplace flickering on his slender form Thorin wanted nothing more than to take him on their bed until they both were spent and tired and could not move at all. Thranduil felt the heat behind Thorin’s eyes, his stomach dropped and his loins warmed in expectation as their eyes crossed for a moment.

“You look…”

Thorin trailed off watching the golden hair cascading the back of his husband, the torso was covered by a surcoat of deep blue pressed tightly to the elf’s body reaching Thranduil’s knees. It was an exquisite work made by elven hands decorated with silver forms resembling Durín’s coat of arms and Mirkwood’s banner. Thranduil had chosen to wear his garment sleeveless with slits in the bottom front and back. Under the surcoat Thranduil only wore his black leggings and his long boots but Thorin could see the naked frame of the alabaster chest.

“I take it this is of your liking?” Thranduil inquired faking an innocent expression, his eyes gleaming mischievously as he approached the Dwarven-King.

Thorin caught a strange scent coming from his lover, it was a mixture of winter mornings and late summer afternoons with the aroma of blossoming flowers and sweet aroma that was pure Thranduil. The elf brushed his fingertips on the dwarf’s beard calling to him with a single stare, Thorin turned following the elf who sat down in front of a mirror. Their eyes met again and Thorin felt his body ignite in a strange fire standing beside his lover.

“What is it you want?” Thorin asked softly, almost a growl of seduction while his hands rubbed the naked arms of the elf.

Thranduil shivered with his lips curling upwards, “I want you to make my braid, like you usually do.”

Thorin nodded furrowing his brows as if breaking some sort of spell, he glanced the blond locks of the elf before putting Thranduil’s head back. The elf moaned but his sounds were swallowed by Thorin who gave in his own desire and start kissing the elf. They had kissed countless of times and yet, this time around, Thorin sensed there was something different about it.

“You look stunning tonight, _Amrâl._ ” Thorin whispered already missing the sweet taste that was Thranduil’s mouth. “So beautiful I am not so sure I should let you out of this room or my sight, yet I have the need for everyone to know I am the luckiest dwarf in Arda at having you loving me.”

Thranduil swallowed feeling his high cheeks turning red, his lifts curled up in a bashful smile that was soon turned into one of pure contentment when Thorin started working on the braid. For some reason, no more words were need, Thranduil observed as his lover worked around his hair braiding the velvety locks with ease. As it was their costume, they shared this time without any hurry, enjoying the presence of the other before going back to the real world. They had returned to Erebor to continue with their duties, they knew new challenges were waiting for them and yet they still found it necessary to have this moment; Thranduil closed his eyes shivering when Thorin finished his worked taking his fingertips to the long neck of the elf. He started caressing gently with tentative brushes of his fingertips while he lowered his face so he was now placing soft kisses on the elf’s neck.

“I love how you look today, how you taste…” Thorin lowered his hands down the length of Thranduil’s arms, the Elven-King ready to be taken to the bed.

“I did it for you.” Thranduil whispered with his breathing increasing. “Lately, things had been…”

“I know.” Thorin replied stopping his ministrations, he lifted his eyes to look into those blue orbs. “Our lives had not been ideal as of late. A lot of thoughts hunt our minds and sneak in our personal time…”

Thranduil looked away nodding sharply, “What has troubled you so that has you so far away from me? Even when you are so close to me?”

Thorin looked taken aback by the honest question, it was the very first time they acknowledge out loud tension and uneasiness had grown between them. The Dwarven-King sighed wrapping his arms around the elf resting his chin on his shoulder.

“I was afraid of not being enough.” Thorin swallowed smiling weakly. “Of perhaps, sharing an eternity with you only for you to realize I am not enough, for me to realize I would prefer enjoy a lifetime instead of outliving my family and friends.”

Thranduil tensed turning sharply to the dwarf who stepped back a little, the Elven-King opened his mouth only to close it again.

“Thorin…” He started but the dwarf silenced him with a sweet, loving kiss. Thranduil was soon melting away feeling those lips dancing around with his, the wicked tongue asking for permission while the dwarf put him closer to him.

A knock on the door interrupted their moment, Thranduil chuckled when Thorin cursed in Khuzdûl glaring at the door.

“Really? Really? Thorin! Thranduil! Every single time! You guys really need to get this…whatever it is you’re doing under control!” Bilbo screamed through the door rather annoyed.

“It should be me, Master Baggins the one asking that! You seem to always come at a bad time!”

Thranduil laughed hearing the retorted from the hobbit and then the childish discussion between Thorin, Bilbo and soon Dwalin who had been hearing everything. The Elven-King stood up silencing his husband with a needy kiss, Thorin moaned frustrated when Thranduil stepped back calling to him wiggling his finger.

“Come, Meleth-nîn. Let us enjoy what is left of the day before we can enjoy what may come in the night.”

Thorin shook his head cursing his luck before following his husband out of the room.

*****

Thranduil sat back down on his chair watching from afar the people filling the Hall, he played with the golden cup on his hand enjoying the sudden time alone he was allowed while Thorin engaged in a strange discussion with Bard. Out of the corner of his eyes, Thranduil could see Legolas unusually quiet while Fíli jumped up and down speaking fast with Bain laughing at him. The scene before the Elven-King was one so different than the one he had lived four years ago, Thranduil softened slightly feeling a growing discomfort on his chest.

“You look pensive.” Thranduil lifted his eyes to see the hobbit siting down beside him, Bilbo glanced around before returning his gaze to the elf.

“Contemplative.” Thranduil commented. “I was remembering the first time I met Thorin, it was at this same celebration.”

“I remembered. Thorin was mad at you, he was mad at the world.” Bilbo chuckled. “Fate has a strange way to play its cards, don’t you think?”

Thranduil furrowed his brows pursing his lips, “Yes, a strange way.”

Bilbo tilted his head lifting his wine to his lips, “How are things in Mirkwood? Has your father returned from his journey?”

“No, he did write me a couple of times. Whatever he and Lord Celeborn are doing, it seems to consume their time and efforts.” Thranduil nodded at the table where Bofur, Bombur and Dori had started singing loudly.

“And, how were things here why we were away?” Thranduil chuckled when Bofur jumped on top of the table only to be thrown down by Dwalin.

“It has been…erratic.” Bilbo commented. “Nothing for you or Thorin to worry about, nothing we cannot control.”

Thranduil nodded curtly shivering slightly, he glanced at his hands then at the place where Thorin was engaging King Erumion and Bard in another conversation. The elf didn’t want to admit his sudden coldness was due to the lack of his lover, he thought he had gotten over the need to be close to his mate, apparently he was wrong.

“Do you want me to call him?” Bilbo smiled gently at Thranduil.

“You will have to tell me your secret, Bilbo. How do you know what I need even when I do not voice it?”

“It’s your face.” Bilbo said shrugging. “You get this lost stare…and you…I don’t know you feel cold.”

Thranduil glanced at his lover who was now looking at him, the Elven-King smiled turning his head to the hobbit who was glancing at him with curiosity.

“I do have the need of being close to Thorin; however, I should be capable of stopping such a needs.” Thranduil leaned back playing with his cup once again. “Tell me, Master Baggins, what had happened in our absence?”

Bilbo pursed his lips weighing his options, in the end the hobbit decided the elf and the dwarf only needed time before speaking about their troubled thoughts. The hobbit sat back and started his narration about the adventures surrounding the company. The rest of the night was spent with Bilbo and Thranduil finding some common stories to share while Thorin could hardly take his eyes away from his husband, a strange need growing in him.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

The night had been too long for Thorin.

He could barely look away from Thranduil, his mind putting lustful images of their coupling while a part of him was trying to be polite and make conversation with the guests. By the time midnight had arrived, Thorin had stopped any pretenses guiding his footsteps to the chair Thranduil had occupied most of the night. They didn’t need any words to communicate the growing need in each one of them, Thranduil had arched a brow in defiance while Thorin had growled leaning in whispering all the sweet and needy things he was going to do to the elf. Bilbo had rolled his eyes allowing his Kings and friends an early departure, making sure no one were to interrupt their time alone.

The night had been special, even in the midst of his passion and need Thorin was always a gently lover when he wanted to be. Thranduil whimpered into the night calling out to Thorin until the world went black and he fell into a deep slumber.

It wouldn’t be until later when dawn was already arriving and the sky was starting to clear that Thranduil would wake up with a start.

The Elven-King opened his eyes staring at the ceiling while breathing hard, it took him a moment to realize he was in his room with a warm, gently hand grasping his. Thranduil turned around to see Thorin laying on his side sleeping peacefully, their hands joined while their naked bodies were covered by the black, silken sheets of the bed. Thranduil creased his brows trying to forget the images of his nightmare, his body tingling at the closeness of his lover something he wished to deepen at the moment.

The dreams had become even more vicious since he learnt about Thorin’s fëa and the wound he received from the spiders, the elf squeezed the hand of the dwarf easing himself in the feeling of Thorin. He still found it hard to believe how much he had come to love Thorin, his very existence was focused on making Thorin smile. Thranduil felt at ease whenever he was close to Thorin, whenever they could share a peaceful moment after their kingly duties of the day; the thought of losing Thorin usually left him breathless with a growing anguish in his chest. Thranduil turned to his side se he could face Thorin, his free hand lifted to start mapping out the face of the dwarf.

The light of the moon sneaked inside the room while the wind made the curtains danced under a silent melody. Thranduil placed his hand on top of Thorin’s chest feeling the heartbeats of his lover, Thranduil closed his eyes feeling those heartbeats under his hand while his spirit seemed to be tangling itself with Thorin’s one. Thorin left out a soft moan stirring in his sleep, Thranduil swallowed feeling a sudden need to be close to Thorin once again. Thranduil’s need became almost primal as he felt his fëa connecting with Thorin’s one, he could feel the dwarf deep inside his heart as his body started heating itself. The Elven-King felt his body ignited with desire, his body tingled while his loins filled with need, Thranduil moaned loudly as his member hardened and his body started acting on its own. Soon he found himself straddling the Dwarven-King placing his hands on Thorin’s shoulders, Thorin bucked his hips his eyes opening in shock as he saw the eager creature on top of him.

“What…” He started asking but was soon cut off by a harsh kiss, his hand went immediately to the elf’s head keeping him in place while their lips danced around in an almost violent need.

Thorin nibbled those elven lips while his hand grabbed a fistful of golden hair, his other hand gasping a naked hip trying to keep under control the needy undulations of Thranduil’s body. Whatever had happened, Thorin seemed to react more so than to think about what he was doing; it was instinct as he changed their positions and he was soon on top of Thranduil. Thranduil growled loudly trying to change their positions only to found himself screaming in pleasure as Thorin closed his mouth around the elf’s naked placing a red mark there while the dwarf’s left hand found its way to the elf’s cock. Thorin teased the leaking cock with his thumb, his senses overwhelmed by Thranduil, his scent, his warm, his heartbeat…Thorin could feel Thranduil everywhere reaching out to him in ways he had never felt before. It soon became a need for him to reach deep inside Thranduil in body, soul and spirit; Thorin deepened his mark on the elf’s neck while his hand started stroking the hardened member. Thranduil bucked his lips, his nails scratching the naked back of his lover while his lips spoke in elvish; for the second time Thranduil tried to change their positions, to struggle against the commanding strength behind every single kiss or touch coming from Thorin. But Thorin would not have it, he soon positioned himself on top of the elf with his lips, tongue and teeth marking the smooth skin under him.

“Thorin…” Thranduil moaned out when he found himself being spread by strong hands, he screamed out his pleasure when a warm mouth closed around his cock head sucking it harshly easing the pain with a flickering tongue. The elf soon found writhing on the bed throwing his head back while Thorin suck him deep inside his throat with a single finger teasing the elf’s opening.

Thorin’s eyes darkened when he found the natural lubrication of the elf was already making his work easy, Thranduil was completely wet and Thorin insert a finger with ease while his mouth worked around the elf’s cock. Thranduil closed his eyes forgetting the fears, the insecurities and the nightmares that had filled his nights; he gave himself without any reservation allowing himself to feel what was happening. He lost any consciousness allowing his instincts and his nature to take over, his body as well as his soul mingling with Thorin’s body and soul submitting himself to the sudden hunger the dwarven-King was showing.

“ _Aran nîn…_ ” The words left Thranduil’s mouth as a proclamation, Thorin growled in desire taking his mouth off of the hardened member of his lover. He nuzzled the naked skin under him crawling up the long body of the elf while his finger kept sliding in and out the tight entrance of the elf. Thranduil bucked his lips already feeling Thorin’s cock pulsating on his thigh.

“ _Thanu men, Men eleneku menu o bepap opetu ezirak.”_

Whatever was happening between them neither of them could tell, suddenly it became important for Thorin to leave his mark on Thranduil and for Thranduil to give in and beg for more of Thorin’s touches. They both found tangled in an erotic dance in which Thorin would lead Thranduil as their lustful moans filled the room. The Dwarven-King positioned himself in between the elven legs, his free hand holding him up so he could keep kissing the naked chest placing open-mouthed kisses everywhere he could reach, his other hand busy thrusting two fingers inside the tight hole off his lover preparing him for the dwarf’s cock. Thorin enjoyed the warm heat around his fingers, he focused his attention on the thrusting fingers, scissoring them while coating the elf’s opening with his own juices. Soon Thranduil was writhing and whimpering in deep need, his lips opened to beg in elvish and Khûzdul and Thorin could not hold back any longer with his eyes gleaming strangely in the middle of the darkened room he positioned himself at the elves entrance thrusting in one single motion. He dropped his head on the elf’s chest while Thranduil opened his mouth unable to scream or utter any sound. They had been intimated numerous times, they had been adventurous in the discover of their bodies and their pleasures; yet this was the first time in such a long time they felt something connected intimately, different as to what had happened previous to this encounter.

Thorin breathed hard feeling Thranduil clenched his walls around him, he held tightly on the elf’s hips. For a moment they both laid there enjoying the feeling of being joined in an unique manner, whatever troubles or rumors, whatever was happening in the world was forgotten behind closed doors in the King’s room. Thorin swallowed wanting nothing more than to hear Thranduil call his name, to feel him happy and complete; Thorin realized he wanted nothing more than to be like this with Thranduil for as long as the world stood through the years, the centuries, the millennia.

“ _Men lananubukhs menu_.” Thorin proclaimed shifting his hips slightly, rolling them slowly while Thranduil wrapped a leg around him.

Thorin started at first with small, hard thrusts his cock being squeezed by the heat that was Thranduil, their moans filling the room while they started a different kind of dance. It started slowly, teasingly with Thorin making sure to learn every single inch that was Thranduil, he imprinted in his mind the sensation of being inside Thranduil of having him writhing under him moaning his name putting him closer whenever he slid out of the elf only to thrust back in. Thranduil was in another world, he could feel all the love Thorin professed him he felt his heart beat with the same pace as Thorin’s one. Thranduil could only feel Thorin touching him in ways they hadn’t touched before, for the very first time he felt a strange easiness, a strange peace engulfed him while pleasure exploded inside his abdomen spreading all through his body blinding him to the world.

They didn’t know how long it passed, they weren’t aware of time or anything that wasn’t them making love through the night. Thranduil exclaimed feeling his resistance wavered under the more insistent thrusts of Thorin, the dwarf sneaked his hand around grabbing Thranduil’s cock in his hand stroking him at the same pace as his cock thrust inside the elf.

“Aran nîn…Thorin…” Thranduil was breathing hard thrusting his hips erratically, his inner walls clenching around the thrusting cock of his lover. “Please…”

Thorin smirked lifting his face to lock his eyes with those blue orbs that were gleaming into the night, they didn’t have the time to think about this strange happening. If they had been more aware of the magic happening around them they would have noticed their eyes were gleaming the same shade of green and blue, their bodies seemed to be entangled in one single motion as Thorin worked his hand faster around the elf’s cock and his hips pounded him faster and harder. Once they locked eyes Thranduil could not help himself but reached his climax screaming into the night. Thorin grunted thrusting faster until he felt the warm of Thranduil pulsating and clenching around him and the sensations were too much for him to hold back.

Thorin finished inside Thranduil with his cock shooting wave after wave of his seed inside the elf, for that single instant Thorin wished this would be the time in which Thranduil would finally be able to carry his child. It was in this instant, in wish blinding pleasure took over that Thorin finally gave himself to the elf without any reservations his fëa easing in entangling with Thranduil’s one surrounding both Kings as they fell into a peaceful sleep with Thorin still on top of the elf, his seed already taking hold in the elf’s body.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

The morning light reached the far wall in the room.

There was no sound, nothing that could interrupt their moment together. Thranduil turned his head to the left resting against the shoulder of his lover while Thorin placed soft kisses on the slender neck. The Dwarven-King strengthened his hold on the body pressed against his, his beard tickling the sensitive skin.

“Are you still hungry for more, _Meleth-nîn_?” Thranduil inquired softly placing his hands on top of Thorin’s ones.

“How could I not if you have me under your spell?”

“My Dwarven poet.” Thranduil snickered closing his eyes, his body tingled pleasantly feeling spent and filled. “I do not believe I will be able to stand today.”

“Was I too rough?” Thorin asked concern, Thranduil shook his head turning to face the dwarf.

“No, you were everything I need.” Thranduil lowered his gaze snuggling closer to the dwarf. “You know what happen, don’t you?”

“Of course.” Thorin replied smirking. “Your scent has always drive me crazy. You’re in heat, far earlier than I thought.”

“I Know, I thought…” Thranduil trailed off for a second, Thorin placed attender kiss on the elf’s forehead easing the sudden inquietude the elf was feeling.

“Don’t worry, we’ve been very busy, it is normal to miss quite a few days.” Thorin then smiled, his eyes gleaming mischievously. “Besides, that was some way to wake up and spend the rest of dawn.”

Thranduil snorted allowing the comfort that was Thorin, even as his mind told him something had already change in him. Thorin placed another kiss on the elf’s forehead, their hands intertwining while the Dwarven-King seemed to think about something.

“Let us stay here all day.” Thorin proposed suddenly.  “Usually the day after the celebrations of the Day of Durín are more tranquil, thus we can spend the whole day naked like this.”

“You know Bilbo is going to come here any moment to shatter your hopes for a day of rest, don’t you?” Thranduil teased letting out a heavy sigh when he found himself on his back with Thorin hovering above him.

“Well, then let’s make sure he hears your screams of passion through the door so he won’t bother us at all.”

Thranduil didn’t argue and Bilbo didn’t bother them for the rest of the day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I don't know, this was really hard to write mostly because things had not been easy back home. But I really hope you like it.  
> Next chapter, a little dwelf comes in the lives of the Kings and the end is near. Hope you like the idea of the child, but we will see this next chapter. Thank you for reading.


	26. The Future of the Kingdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The future of the Line of Durín and the Line of Mirkwood has been secured, now all that it is left is for Thorin to hear the news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beloved readers, this is a new chapter I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> I do apologize for the grammar, spelling and other funny mistakes, remember English is not my mother tongue so be patient with me. 
> 
> Finally the moment we have been waiting for it's here. Hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 26**

**The Future of the Kingdom**

 

Thranduil leaned back against his chair, his lips twitching upwards while his ears flickered expectantly. His body shivered when calloused fingers brushed against the skin of his neck, he cocked his head to the side and his lips opened to let out a content sigh. Thorin kissed the neck being offered to him, his lips caressed the sweet skin of his lover while his hands put Thranduil closer.

“We’re going to be late.” Thranduil whispered placing his left hand on top of Thorin’s head, the Dwarven-King chuckled sucking on Thranduil’s pulse point.

“We’re always late, _Amrâl_.” Thorin kissed the neck slowly, teasingly until his lips closed around a pointy ear. “What is it about you that drives me to such an unrestrained passion? What is it about you, _Amrâl_ that makes me want to take you over and over again?”

“My looks and personality?” Thranduil loved the sound of Thorin’s laughter, the Dwarven-King bit down on the marbled skin of his lover while easing the pain with a brush of his tongue.

“Don’t get cocky with me, King Thranduil.” Thorin growled his eyes gleaming with the dangerous knowledge his tone of voice and his dominant vein usually drove Thranduil mad with lust. “I can make you pay for your insolence.”

“My, King Thorin, you really are in a strange mood as of late.” Thranduil replied smirking, his heart beating fast.

Thorin blinked a couple of times, his dark eyes locked with those blue eyes. The Dwarven-King hugged Thranduil closer placing a soft, tender kiss on the elf’s cheeks, Thranduil quirked a brow at the sudden change in mood but Thorin merely grinned.

“You have always driven me mad, King Thranduil. However, I do have to say as of late you…” Thorin trailed off thinking his words before speaking again. “I do not know how to explain it but, as of late, you seem irresistible I have this need to have you by my side at all times, to protect you and love you…”

“The way you do every day?” Thranduil inquired shaking his head, he turned around putting Thorin to him. “Meleth-nîn, I think you’re just a very lustful dwarf.”

“Oh, please, the one with the wicked mind is you, not me.”

“Yes, but the one with the sexual appetite is you, not me.”

“How could I not if Mahal has blessed me with such a creature as yourself?” Thorin smirked in triumph when he saw the tenderness shown behind Thranduil’s blue eyes.

“You have a clever tongue, Master Dwarf.” Thranduil commented lightly leaning in to peck Thorin on his lips. “How is it possible you can seem to touch the very core of my being with just words?”

“You said so yourself, _Amrâl_ , clever tongue.” Thorin replied winking at the elf.

Thranduil snickered standing up, “Meleth-nîn, I believe we will need to continue this conversation but, for now, your clever mouth it is needed in Ravenhill.”

“Indeed, today we will finish the final touches on the Fortress.” Thorin fixed his clothing the crown falling on his head while his eyes lifted to watch the gleaming form of the Elven-King.

Thorin didn’t know how to describe it or even if he should put a name to his thoughts, the only thing he knew for certain was Thranduil was looking magnificent. There was something _alluring_ about him, something different yet very entrancing; Thorin had come to know his lover and he knew there was something just _different_ in him, the Dwarven-King merely shook his head probably overthinking as he usually did _._

“This would make easier the transportation of the new weapons to the fortress. The Armory room is also getting ready, Bilbo has been doing an amazing job with this.” Thranduil commented walking towards the door.

“You’re not thinking of leaving me alone today, are you?” Thorin followed his elf out of their room, their footsteps barely heard as they moved downstairs. “I want you to see Ravenhill completely restore, I don’t think you have a chance of visit it before it was destroyed.”

Thranduil didn’t have a chance to answer for Thorin was soon narrating the wonders of Ravenhill, the Elven-King rolled his eyes even though his lips curled slightly and his hears twitched with interested. He never got tired of the excited expression on the dwarf’s face whenever he spoke about his ancestors or his land, before the conversation they held a few days back Thranduil could not comprehend why Thorin care so much about the past of his people while he was capable of saying ‘no’ to immortal life. If he were to be honest, Thranduil had been scared when he discovered immortality might not be something Thorin desired; for the Elven-King it was almost natural to experience time as if it was the sweet touch of cold water on a warm summer, he never stopped to consider Thorin was not thinking the same. Now hearing Thorin speak about the legacy of Durín, Thranduil realized Thorin considered his past and his roots the base of his own persona and his own Kingdom;  Thorin had grown with the certainty he was going to die thus he wanted to make sure he would be remembered forever as much as Durín and his heirs were remembered. That was the meaning of immortal life for the other races, a memory written in paper and stone.

“Are you listening to me?” Thorin furrowed his brows shaking his head, Thranduil cleared his throat nodding sharply.

“Of course, you were telling me how you commission the drawing of your battle with the army of orcs attacking the mountain.” Thranduil smirked when Thorin huffed before he resumed his narration.

Thranduil got lost in the sound of Thorin’s voice, his mind drifting away all over again thinking if perhaps Thorin had finally decided to share the times of the world with him. Thorin stopped walking turning around to face Thranduil, the Elven-King glanced at the dwarf with his body warming up and an electric pulse shooting through his heart down to his abdomen.

“Are you all right, _Amrâl_?” Thorin approached his lover with the same concerned stare he usually got whenever he felt Thranduil the way Thranduil felt him.

Thranduil sighed smiling a little, “I am.”

“You…what you just did…” Thorin started but before Thranduil could reply they were interrupted by Fíli and Dori.

Thranduil watched as Thorin was engaged in a deep conversation with his nephew who was trying to explain in a fast speech why it was such a good idea to take Bain with them. The Elven-King for his part was left behind a little confused and worried, he had not try to do nothing if anything he thought it had been Thorin the one to make him feel the sudden electrical shock that went through him.  The elf shook his head lifting his eyes to the approaching form of his son who was having a nice conversation with Dís, Thranduil decided to inquire about the strange moment later when he was alone with Thorin for now he grinned to his son ignoring completely the odd stare Legolas shoot his way while crunching up his nose as if he had perceived an scent he shouldn’t have.

*****

Ravenhill stood proudly at the top of the hill overlooking Erebor, the Valley and the Forest of Mirkwood.

The Fortress had been finished early in the month, but the Dwarven-King had asked for a few extra arrangements to make the place a symbol of peace and protection. The walls had been decorated with the coat of arms of the armies that had participate in the battle, he had made the place bigger than before with tunnels and rooms adapted to house elves and dwarves alike. In the war room, where the future of battles and wars to be fought would be decided had been engraved with the forms and sequences of the Battle of the Five Armies, as some had come to call it.

Thranduil stood in the middle of the room shivering before the overwhelming emotions and memories he got from the War Room. The Elven-King stepped inside looking at the round table in the middle of the room with several chairs around it, the two fireplaces to be lit during the winter or the cold nights and the banner of House of Durín hanging from the wall right beside the banner of Mirkwood.

Fíli gasped in shock looking around the room before running to the first set of engraved drawings, he let his fingers touched the stone with his eyes opened wide.

“Uncle, is this the battle? This is the battle where you and Uncle Thranduil fought against big worms?” Fíli asked turning around to face his uncle, Thorin chuckled nodding while approaching his nephew.

“Yes, this is the battle where Legolas fought like I have never seen an elf fight before.”

“Really?” Fíli asked turning to Legolas with an impressed expression. “Tell me more! Come on, Legolas I want to hear you to. What did you do? Can you teach me?”

Thranduil watched as his son was dragged away by a very enthusiastic Fíli, Dís chuckled shaking her head while standing beside the Elven-King.

“This is incredible.” Thranduil commented. “I cannot believe he did this.”

“It is a tradition, you know?” Dís lifted her eyes to the elf. “It was started by one of our ancestors, actually. A way to make sure our history will endure the endless time. Not all of us have the luxury of living forever.”

Dís winked at Thranduil before turning her attention to Thorin, Thranduil nodded in understanding before his eyes set on the farthest image in the room, the one in which he was being protected by Thorin. Dís watched out of the corner of her eyes the form of the Elven-King, how the elf seemed to soften looking around before hardening his stare.

“This is how you and the rest of your people remain immortal?” Thranduil inquired.

“Yes.” Dís placed her hand on the forearm of the elf, Thranduil shook his head turning to look at her finding the she-dwarf smiling in understanding. “Thorin is making sure we do not forget, because he now has the ability to remember.”

“He told you about our conversation, didn’t he?” Thranduil asked shaking his head.

“Of course, there isn’t much he doesn’t tell me. Over all if it is something that really worries or disturbs him.” Dís nodded to the other side of the room while Thorin dragged Fíli around with Legolas.

“It was never my intention…” Thranduil started talking only to be interrupted by Dís.

“Don’t look for excuses. You love him, he loves you…you two you’re still building this relationship.” Dís stood before the last of the engravings that was showing a running army of orcs and the army of allies standing in victory. “It is hard for him, but he would not give it up as long as he is with you.”

“How emotional.” Thranduil lowered his eyes shaking his head, his lips however were showing the half-smile of happiness and relief he was feeling. “I will never give him up…I was really scare when he got hurt back in Mirkwood, when I found out his fëa was flickering erratically.”

Dís pursed her lips turning around to see her son wrapping his hand around Legolas’ one, the young elf laughing while Thorin was waving his hands looking away. They had become a family in such a short time Dís had to wonder if this was due to time passing different to elves, the she-dwarf face Thranduil who was looking back at Thorin with a light frown on his forehead.

“Is it flickering still? His fëa?” Dís asked narrowing her eyes when she caught such an expression on Thranduil’s face.

The Elven-King watched with care the form of his husband before shaking his head, “It’s not.”

“Then, why the face?”

Thranduil blinked a couple of times shaking his head before concealing his thoughts, “It is nothing.”

Dís didn’t believe Thranduil, but the elf didn’t give any more explanations. However, Thranduil had seen something different, something clearer and warmer in Thorin, something tied completely to the elf but with brightness and a dark blue he hadn’t seen before. Dís couldn’t help but observed the elf, her eyes flickering from Thorin to Thranduil an idea already forming in her head.

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

In the last couple of days, something had been bothering Legolas greatly.

Several things, actually.

First, there was Fíli who now seemed to prefer the company of Prince Bain. The both of them seemed to be inseparable and, for some unfathomable reason, Legolas felt abandoned by Fíli. It was a stupid feeling, overall taking into account he didn’t see him most of the year and the fact Fíli was free to do whatever he wanted, he was a child after all. Still, Legolas had gotten used to be Fíli’s best friend and to always be required by the dwarf; Legolas knew what he was feeling but he refused to acknowledge it, mainly because in his mind Fíli was young and also because it was ridiculous. Completely and utterly ridiculous. Legolas was starting to think he needed friends of his own age.

Second, Legolas had been worried about his father as of late. Something strange had been happening to the Elven-King but Legolas hadn’t been capable of discovering what it was. The problem was this situation was becoming a huge distractor during their training sessions such as the one he was having at the moment. Legolas narrowed his eyes feeling the unfamiliar weight of the shield on his left hand, his ears twitched hearing others fighting around him and the little vice of a child cheering on him. He couldn’t help but smile at this, his hand tightened around the hilt of his sword suddenly feeling he would like nothing more than to impress the voice cheering on him. His opponent lifted an eyebrow, his lips curling amusedly while he kept his calm posture; for a second Legolas sensed the change in the air around him, he furrowed his brows confusedly with his nostrils flickering slightly while he caught the unfamiliar scent in his nose.

He was so distracted by this he never saw his opponent tensing his shoulders and arms before striking with speed. Legolas reacted by lifting his shield, his body trembling when the sword fell with force on the metal plate. He winced parrying the gleaming sword coming from his right side, his hand trembling while trying to hold the attack. He stepped backwards allowing his training partner advantage over his grounding, the Elven-King furrowed his brows watching the erratic behavior of his son he twitched his hand placing his sword in a side angle slashing through the air only to find the shield stopping his attacks. Legolas growled planting his feet firmly on the ground, his right hand slashing forward the sword finding his father’s shield before he moved it to strike another attack.

Father and son danced around the training grounds, Dís observed this training session with some curiosity and worry in her eyes. She had seen the sudden change in Legolas’ behavior, as if he had caught something that distracted him from the battle. Both elves continued their fighting but soon Thranduil realized his son was far too distracted to keep going.

“Daro.” He commanded softly lowering his shield and sword, Legolas pursed his lips looking away with confusion as he too lowered his weapons.

“Is there something the matter?” Thranduil approached his son, his blue eyes gleaming in worry when Legolas turned his attention to him and his eyes reflected confusion and concern.

“I apologize, Ada.” He mumbled his cheeks burning slightly before he spoke again. “I was wondering…”

But Legolas didn’t finish his sentence; the young elf had been highly confused for more than a week whenever he was around his father. He had become familiar with Thranduil’s heat cycle, he recognized the scent the elf exuded when he was in this state and yet, as of late, the scent had changed. It had confused Legolas at the very beginning, he thought perhaps he had made a mistake and thus tried to not think too much about it. However, this scent instead of diminishing, it grew in strength and intensity to the point he was now distracted by it. It wasn’t as if he was being tempted by his father’s nature, far from it. What was happening to him was different, it was a sort of familiarity and protectiveness he had never felt before; Legolas stared at his father thinking this change in the Elven-King made him feel nostalgic, and for some reason it also made him think of Thorin.

The Elven-King could tell something was bothering his son, he could tell Legolas had been bothered for quite some time. Thranduil tilted his head catching the eyes of his son before nodding towards the place where Fíli and Dís were sitting watching their training session. Legolas understood the gesture nodding in agreement before following his father.

“Father.” Legolas began with a strange firmness in his voice.

“What is it?” Thranduil inquired growing worried.

Legolas shook his head, “I just…I was wondering if you were still on your heat.”

The question caught Thranduil off guard; he stopped abruptly eyeing his son for a moment before shaking his head.

“It’s been more than a week since my cycle ended, Legolas. You know this.” Thranduil gauged his son’s face for a moment. “Why do you ask this? Is that the reason why you have been distracted around me lately?”

Legolas couldn’t help but frown deeply, his blue eyes stared at his father with a thoughtful glint in them. Of course he had known his father’s cycle had been more than a week ago, but even there he had caught the strangeness behind his father’s scent. He wondered if anyone else had noticed it but he hadn’t had the time to share his thoughts about the matter with anyone, not until today. The young elf put his sword away aware of his father’s deep stare on him, the Elven-Prince wondered if his father had been aware of his change or if this was something only Legolas had been aware of.

“Something is bothering you. You have been distracted as of late, do tell me what is it.” Thranduil placed a comforting hand on his son’s shoulders and Legolas felt like a kid again. He leaned into the touch allowing his father’s scent to fill his senses because it felt far too familiar and comforting. It felt as if he was home.

“Haven’t you sense it, Ada? You still have this particular scent on you…I just…” Legolas trailed off seeking the right words to express his thoughts. It wasn’t as if he felt some kind of discomfort or even need, he had never felt this whenever his father was on heat; he had, however, felt protective as of late.

“Scent? What are you talking about?” Thranduil inquired furrowing his brows while his mind worked around his son’s words, his stomach dropping while he suddenly felt dizzy.

Legolas shook his head offering a shaky smile, “Nothing, perhaps I’m just imagining things. It’s just I have never detected this kind of scent in you. It’s different and it has lasted far too long…It feels familiar yet different. Sweet and comfy and yet…Perhaps it’s just me, though you also reek of Thorin.”

Legolas shook his head suddenly hearing himself speak chuckling at his own joke, he never noticed the shock on his father’s face or the way Dís was looking at them. Legolas lifted his face smiling more convincingly at his father who was trying to hide his expression behind a well-practiced façade.

“I apologize, father. Next time I promise I will do better in our training sessions.”

“You need not to apologize, Legolas.” Thranduil turned around to see Dís glancing at him with a calculating stare, the Elven-King swallowed hard before clearing his throat. “We will work more on your fighting abilities next time, for now I believe I need to speak with Glorfindel, I’ll see you at dinner. All of you.”

“Of course, King Thranduil you go ahead.” Dís commented lightly waving at the elf who frowned slightly before turning away, the Dwarven-Queen waited until she was sure Thranduil was far from earshot before turning her attention to the young Elven-Prince.

“Tell me, Legolas, what do you mean about your father’s scent changing?” The queen asked with a hint of concern on her voice, Legolas pursed his lips together before giving in.

“Nothing much, Queen Dís. I have been by his side for a very long time, but as of late there has been something _different_.” Legolas seemed bothered by this as if he was trying to seek answers still but he was incapable of obtaining them.

“Could it be he is sick?” Dís asked but Legolas shook his head.

“It doesn’t feel like it.” Legolas shrugged. “It’s just different, you know? I have never smelt something like it, yet I feel as if I should remember it.”

Dís nodded appreciatively, she then smiled clapping her hands together while Fíli tried to catch Legolas attention.

“Very well, what do you say if you come with us to the stables? I think Fíli wanted to try some of the war-goats and I’ve been told you’re the best for this task.”

“Yes! Please, Legolas, can we go?”

Legolas smiled brightly nodding with the same enthusiasm as Fíli was smiling at him, “Of course we can. Come, I believe it’s time for you to have your first war-goat.”

Dís shook her head watching both Princes walked ahead of her, the she-dwarf turned her eyes to the place where Thranduil had gone off. She crossed her arms thoughtfully wondering if, perhaps, the miracle everyone was waiting for had finally happened.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Thranduil had his son’s words resounding in his head.

He walked fast down the training grounds to the main halls leading to his upper quarters, on his way to the entrance of the Palace he ordered to one of the Royal guards to bring Glorfindel to his room, the dwarf had bowed deeply before setting out to accomplish his task. Thranduil allowed a break in his unbreakable façade as his footsteps resounded in the empty stairs, he started thinking about the last two weeks after the Day of Durin’s festival but he found himself far too confused, far too hopeful to even think straight. He needed his friend and he needed it now.

By the time Glorfindel arrived to the tower Thranduil was pacing around with Beleg by his side, the half-wolf half-warg howled wiggling his tail and running towards the elf. Glorfindel smiled lightly scratching Beleg’s ear while his eyes flickered towards his friend. He hadn’t taken more than three steps towards him when all of a sudden he stopped. Thranduil turned around opening his eyes slightly when he noticed the strange stare forming on his friend’s eyes.

“Thranduil…” Glorfindel uttered tentatively approaching his friend carefully, it had been more than a few days since they last saw one another and the elf was clearly highly confused.

“So, you sense it as well.” Thranduil commented with a wry smile.

Glorfindel furrowed his brows before his eyes went big, “You mean…”

“Legolas noticed it first.” Thranduil cut him off before Glorfindel could voice his thoughts. The Elven-King went back to his passing shaking his head, Beleg soon joined him sensing his master’s uneasiness. “I didn’t…I never thought…You know how long has it been since I last feel like this? I was so focused on my duties and everything else…I never thought…”

Glorfindel watched amusedly as Thranduil went left and right with a creature far too large to be a normal dog. He remembered this same scene almost twenty-nine years ago, at that time circumstances had been different Thranduil had been highly scared and ready to fade away. Right now, he was just panicking for some unfathomable reason; Glorfindel stepped in blocking his friend’s path, Thranduil stopped lifting his fearful eyes and Glorfindel smiled gently at him placing his hands on his shoulders.

“Isn’t this what you and King Thorin have been hoping for?” Glorfindel inquired softly.

Thranduil swallowed nodding, the Captain of the guard smiled again squeezing Thranduil’s shoulders.

“I should have known, you know? I should have noticed it the first time I meet you.” Glorfindel shook his head chuckling lightly. “Of course you were still in your cycle so, it was a little difficult to do so but now that I can sense it clearly…it is there.”

“What if you are wrong?” Thranduil finally asked with a shaky voice, Glorfindel understood right there why he was called and why Thranduil had been pacing.

It wasn’t the nervousness of having a life growing inside him, it was the fear that his hopes and dreams might be shattered by a false alarm. By another false alarm, two years ago Thranduil had thought he was with child only for his hopes to be broken in a second. The Elven-King tilted his head to stare away from the knowing glance of his friend, Glorfindel shook his head stepping back.

“There is only one way to find out. You know it.” Glorfindel finally said, Thranduil nodded sharply.

“I know.”

Glorfindel went to lean back against the rail of the balcony, he quirked a brow at the Elven-King, “Well, are you going to do it?”

“Right now?” Thranduil asked and Glorfindel rolled his eyes.

“Of course!” Glorfindel smiled wryly at him. “You called me to give you moral support, didn’t you?”

Thranduil dropped his shoulders placing his hand on Beleg, “Perhaps.”

Glorfindel snickered shaking his head, his eyes examined the elf standing before him. His nostrils flickering slightly catching the scent in the air, he felt it stronger this time the change Thranduil had suffered. At first, he had been confused because Thranduil had been on his normal cycle almost a week ago but now he knew he hadn’t gotten it wrong. It had change and Glorfindel was quite familiar with such a change, this was the second time he felt it in the blond elf standing before him. Of course, this time around there weren’t traces of Haldir behind it, Thorin’s own mark was there stronger than Haldir’s had been.

Thranduil placed a trembling hand on his abdomen, he tilted his head to see Glorfindel was looking at him with softened features. The Elven-King felt suddenly nervous, even fearful, his fingers flickered slightly as he thought of the possibilities; he imagined Thorin’s face with the news, he could already hear all the ridiculous ideas his husband would come up with. Thranduil smiled closing his eyes taking a deep breath, he opened his mouth breathing slowly before whispering in Quenya. Thranduil opened his eyes revealing a blue light gleaming there, his hand felt warm on top of his abdomen and soon without looking further inside himself he felt it. He jerked his hand away breaking the charm while his breathing increased, his eyes normal now were staring at his abdomen with disbelief.

“Congratulations, my Lord.” Glorfindel whispered after the silence had extended far too much.

Thranduil swallowed tears forming in his eyes, he turned towards Glorfindel who came to him giving him a tight comforting hug.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m perfect.”

Somehow, Glorfindel didn’t believe him still he didn’t question his friend any longer, for now he was just happy discovering the news and he was already imagining the reaction of Thorin when he found about the merry news.

However, as night fell and Thranduil shared the table and the bed with Thorin he found himself unable to voice the news. The elf seemed to lose his ability to speak whenever he was alone with Thorin, their conversations turned to matters of the Kingdom and meaningless things while their nights became in tender moments of loving one another under the moon light. Thranduil would laid at nights shaking his head with decision promising himself to tell Thorin about the news, only to find himself cowering the next day.  This went on and on until his strange behavior was caught by Dís and she decided to take matters in her own hands.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Dís had always been the perceptive one in the family.

She had a natural instinct when reading the people around her, her sharp eyes had helped her in her duties as a Queen. The she-dwarf leaned back against the chair with her eyes completely focused on the Elven-King who was playing with his food while Thorin spoke about his day, Thranduil would smile and retort whenever it was necessary. Still, if Thorin had been paying attention, he would have seen the distraction in his husband; the elf was focusing his stare on his plate pursing his lips from time to time.

“Are you all right, _Amrâl?_ ” Thorin placed his hand on top of Thranduil’s one, his brows creasing in concern, his voice growing warm and tender while his eyes softened the way they usually did whenever he was looking at the elf.

Thranduil blinked lifting his eyes, he smiled tentatively brushing his thumb on the knuckles of Thorin’s hand.

“I am.” He said softly. “I’m merely tired.”

This only brought more concern to Thorin, Dís observed the interaction from afar trying to remember if the elf had been behaving strangely as of late.

“Tired? I thought you elves never got tired.” Thorin exclaimed half-jokingly, half-worried.

“We do not.” Thranduil replied smirking a little. “Or else, I wouldn’t be able of keeping up with you at nights.”

“Ugh, Ada!” Legolas rolled his eyes shaking his head.

Thorin smiled wickedly at his husband leaning in to steal a kiss, Thranduil gave in but Dís could see there was something different. She didn’t know what it was but she sensed there was something softer and lovingly in Thranduil, something not completely direct to Thorin and yet meant to comfort the Dwarven-King. Dís grabbed her cup taking another sip from her wine, her mind already working on a way to obtain answers from her brother-in-law.

For more than two weeks Dís had been trying to follow the Elven-King with care, she started asking questions left and right to the elves that were now inhabiting Erebor while trying to see if her suspicions were right. The Queen of Ered Luin wanted to make sure everything was right with her brother before she had to go back to her own Kingdom in a weeks’ time, but the Elven-King was elusive and pretty secretive when he wanted to be. This left Dís with one option.

“I really don’t know what you are talking about.” Glorfindel said again shaking his head while looking around for an escape route.

Dís pursed her lips crossing her arms while posing in front of the Captain of the Elven guard, they were down the road leading to the nearby forest surrounding the training area of the war-goats. She knew if there was someone who could clarify her doubts it was the King’s best friend, but Glorfindel was proving to be a difficult to interrogate.

“I’m not asking for you to reveal any secrets.” Dís chose with care her words, her eyes never leaving those of the elf. “I’m merely inquiring if you know something, anything.”

Glorfindel hesitated before his face became a mask of blankness, “Why?”

“Because my brother has been facing the council as of late regarding this topic and I know King Thranduil has been doing the same, and if something were to change, well…” Dís shrugged not knowing what else to say.

Glorfindel sighed placing his hand on the hilt of his sword, “I shouldn’t tell you this. I don’t even know why Thranduil hasn’t said anything. But I believe this is something they both had to solve.”

“So, my suspicions…” Dís started while Glorfindel nodded with the ghost of a smile on his face.

Then the smile disappeared and Glorfindel was looking gravely at the Queen, “But, Queen Dís, I will ask you to be careful with this topic.”

Glorfindel sighed as the memories of the past invaded his mind, “Thranduil…if he hasn’t said anything about this it may be because he still remembers what happened the last time.”

Dís thought about Legolas and the story behind the young elf’s birth, she imagined what must have happened back then when it was revealed the Prince of Mirkwood had been fooling around with a lower-class warrior until he gave birth to his child. The Queen of Ered Luin knew for some time Thranduil’s life had not been easy and thus she now could imagine why he seemed to reluctant to say anything about his current state.

“I will be careful, Captain Glorfindel. But you must agree with me these news need to be share with my brother. He deserves to know.”

“I know, this is why I’m telling you this now.” Glorfindel softened slightly looking upwards to the tower of Erebor. “Thranduil is a fool and it’s pretty stubborn, he probably won’t say anything until the time comes for the child to come.”

“And, my brother is a fool, how come he hasn’t noticed it yet?” Dís commented shaking her head, Glorfindel made a face of agreement. Dís took on a more contemplative stare turning around. “I guess I will approach him subtly to see what happens.”

“Good luck with that, Queen Dís. Perhaps you will be luckier than me.” Glorfindel commented hoping the Queen was better at convincing Thranduil of sharing the news.

*****

The opportunity present itself two days later when Dís stepped inside the Armory Room looking to talk with Bilbo and finding the hobbit was side by side with Thranduil finishing the organization of the Armory. The days had been growing shorter as the winter fell upon the mountain, Erebor became a warm refugee for the travelers and for the many inhabitants that were starting to mumble about one of the coldest winters they had experienced so far. In the midst of this, the work inside the Royal Palace seemed to multiply and Bilbo Baggins faced these new duties and responsibilities with the same mettle he had done so ever since he was named Chamberlain.

The hobbit lifted his face from the list he was checking to see Dís entering the room, the Queen smiled at him before centering her attention on Thranduil. For a moment, Bilbo furrowed his brows staring from the elf to the dwarf before his duties reclaimed his attention.

The Armory Room was located on the left wing of the Royal Palace, it was an oval room filled with weapons and shields of legend. The walls had been decorated with engraved stories of Dwarven adventures and achievements in battle, at the very center of the room hanging from the roof was the banner of House of Durín alongside the banner of the Elven-King of Mirkwood, this had been the final touch the room was needing after the Armory had been filled with elven weapons. Thranduil passed around before giving instructions to the dwarves standing beside him as soon as he was left alone the Elven-King stopped his passing turning his attention to the blue and green banners hanging from the roof while thinking about the changes done to the place. As time passed by and danger grew in the world, the Kingdoms of Rhovanion got ready to face a new threat, whatever this threat might be.

Dís approached Thranduil with determined steps, her eyes diverted from her goal while she admired the work Thranduil and Bilbo had achieved in the Armory. The stands filled with weapons and shields had been organized in such a way, Dís was pretty sure the warriors would not have any troubles reaching out for their weapons before presenting themselves to battle.

“It is a strange sight.” Thranduil spoke without turning around, Dís stood beside him following his gaze before nodding.

“I think it’s an expected one.” Dís replied glancing up at Thranduil who was shooting her an inquiring stare.

“Indeed, it was about time we did this.” Thranduil then tilted his head to the side crossing his arms.

“It was about time we stood side by side as one army, don’t you think?” Dís said caressing the closest weapon.

“Of course.” Thranduil smiled gently, his blue eyes gleaming strangely with his facial features softening slightly. The Elven-King turned around and his eyes went immediately to the banners of his Kingdoms. “It is about time we stand as one…one banner, one Kingdom.”

His voice sounded hopeful and far-away, for a second the Elven-King seemed to be in another place and time ignoring the inquisitive stares from the hobbit and the knowing glare from Dís. The Queen of Ered Luin passed around never leaving Thranduil’s side.

“That it’s the dream, isn’t it?” Dís cocked her head to face Thranduil who was looking at her with a blank expression. Dís smiled a little before nodding towards the walls. “You should write a new chapter in this Armory, King Thranduil. The story about the Battle of the Five Armies should be engraved in these walls.”

“We thought so to, your Majesty.” Bilbo finally broke the strange tension in the room, he smiled tentatively at the Queen who scowled at him.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” Dís said exasperate.

“I’m just following protocol, your Majesty.” Bilbo replied cheekily, Dís rolled her eyes while Thranduil chuckled the elf however was in high alert, he hadn’t taken lightly Dís odd behavior.

“Everything is ready, Captain Glorfindel and Balin had been commissioned with this task. It will begin at the start of the new year.”

“Good, good, we shall not forget this tradition.” Dís turned to Thranduil and the elf could tell the she-dwarf knew something. Something vital and was merely weighting up her options. “We should always write about the great happenings in our Kingdom and in our family. Don’t you think, King Thranduil? We should start writing about these kind of events.”

It was the tone of voice, her words and her stares what made Thranduil tensed and his heart beat faster. He swallowed looking away from the dwarf before facing her again with narrowed eyes, Dís quirked a brow at him while Bilbo tried to make sense of what was happening. The room was suddenly filled with a heavy silence, Thranduil sighed shaking his head.

“There is something I want to show you, King Thranduil. Would you mind coming with me?” Dís didn’t leave space for an argument.

Bilbo glanced from one Royal to the other stepping back, “Well, then I shall continue with my labor…”

Bilbo stepped back furrowing his brows, he followed with his eyes the regal form of Thranduil following the dominant frame of Dís. For a second, the hobbit was tempted to follow but he pursed his lips, whatever Dís wanted to talk about with Thranduil it was better leave it be the hobbit faced the room and started giving up orders all over again watching some of the dwarves had been distracted by the parting Royals.

The Queen led Thranduil down the hall into the more secluded area of the Royal Palace, Thranduil furrowed his brows already recognizing this path. The sound of their footsteps resounded in the empty hall, the lights of the torches flickered around hitting the marbled skin of the elf giving him a more mysterious aura. Dís glanced out of the corner of her eyes to the elf who was hiding away his emotions.

“I know Thorin told you about this, the story of the Heirs of Durín has always been written down in the _Mazal Id-agnât_ right next to the Royal Mausoleum.” Dís could tell the elf behind here was shifting anxiously, she kept on talking while they approached the entrance of the chamber. “Our history, our whole legacy has been kept in this place as a vow to the future of the Kingdom and our family. In this case, yours and Thorin’s family.”

“How did you know?” Thranduil finally asked in a whisper, Dís pursed her lips turning to the left leading to a wooden door protected by the Royal seal.

“I suspected something was wrong with you a few weeks ago, but I knew for certain after I spoke with Glorfindel.” Dís commented pointing with her hand the seal.

Thranduil stepped forward placing his hand on the seal mumbling softly before procuring a small key, he turned around the doorknob and the door opened before them. The Elven-King shot Dís a quick glance shaking his head.

“You mean you corner Glorfindel into telling you.” Thranduil gave the Queen a half-smirk. “Why not come directly to me?”

“Would you have answer honestly?” Dís inquired entering the room with Thranduil following her.

“I’m not sure.” Thranduil answered honestly, as soon as the door closed behind him the lights in the room went on.

In front of them a great gallery stretched out farther away than the eyes could see, Thranduil was always marbled by the Dwarven technology that allowed lights to be all around a room. He stepped forward and his eyes went immediately to the engraved walls of the chamber, his hand brushed against the warm stone while Dís gave a few steps forward smiling in remembrance of her time as a child.

“Why did you bring me here?” Thranduil faced Dís, and the Queen was already looking around her placing her hand on the tables and books resting around.

“When I reached adulthood, Thorin brought me here.” Dís commented chuckling. “It was his duty to instruct me on the legends of our ancestors, and to start writing part of my story…our story as family. In here we kept the records of all the births and deaths, of all the great achievements of House of Durin, I thought you could start writing some of this story as well.”

Thranduil softened slightly thinking about the time Thorin had brought him here, the Dwarven-King had been excited looking around while narrating some of the Dwarven folklore to him. They had spent most of the day in this room and Thranduil had learnt another side of his lover, he had allowed Thorin to lead him wherever he wanted and the King had taken him deep inside the caverns teaching him about the meaning of being a dwarf while, at the same time, loving him whenever the need struck him. Thorin had whispered the promise of the future and he had carved their names on stone alongside Legolas and the future heirs the both of them would provide the Kingdom. The room was a great tapestry with a Family Tree and stories of legends.

“He taught me about this as well.” Thranduil smiled gently approaching the table where Dís was admiring a leathery book. “He told me how important it was for us to leave our names carved in stone…so the eternity knew about us, the first dwarf to be in love and joined in matrimony with an elf.”

“Did he tell you about Fíli’s name?” Dís inquired to which Thranduil merely shook his head.

“No, what story is behind his name?” Thranduil sat down with his eyes flickering to the book Dís was observing.

“It is said Durín had two sons, twins actually, Fíli and Kíli.” The Queen started the narration while sliding the book towards Thranduil so the elf could see the drawings there. “The legend says both brothers took off after their father’s dead to find their own path in this world. They arrived to Erebor in the midst of the worst winter in Middle Earth, in here they found the cavern and the chambers already set to be worked by clever hands.”

Thranduil listened to the story with easiness, his hand falling distractedly on his abdomen feeling a strange heat surrounded his body. He observed the images noticing this were the same ones engraved on the walls in the _Mazal Id-agnât_ (the vow chamber). The elf lifted his face watching around the room furrowing his brows, Dís turned the page showing two warriors with dark hair and fierce eyes holding an axe and sword each one facing a group of orcs.

“The brothers conquered Erebor and fought those who tried to come and take it. They built this Kingdom ruling at the same time until the time came for them to make a decision. The Kingdom could not be governed by the two of them, not if they were to marry and form a family.”

“Destiny took the decision for them.” Thranduil mumbled watching another drawing while lifting his face to the engraved drawing on the wall. He saw the form of one of the brothers on the ground with several black arrows on his body while his brother cried beside him.

“Yes.” Dís said sadly. “A group of orcs came forward trying to take over Ravenhill when it was first being built, both brothers came forward with a group of warriors but the oldest one, Fíli, fell in battle trying to protect his younger brother.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Thranduil finally said, Dís made her way towards the elf placing a hand on his shoulder.

“My brother loves this story, there is more to tell, of course. But is this part the one that impact me the most.” Dís sighed nodding towards the book Thranduil had still on his hands. “I remembered Thorin telling me about this and I thought I wanted my children to wear the names of our ancestors, I wanted for my children to be together in such a way. But, again destiny wanted me to only have one child.”

“So, this is the origin of Fíli’s name. I think I will take this to Legolas, I bet he would be interested in knowing this and perhaps sharing it with Fíli.” Thranduil commented with a half-smile.

“That’s actually a pretty good idea.” Dís chuckled squeezing Thranduil’s shoulder. “I need you to be honest with me, Thranduil. Is it true? Are you with child?”

Thranduil swallowed cocking his head to the side, his hair falling softly on his arm and shoulder, “Yes, I am.”

Dís grinned widely, “This is marvelous!”

Thranduil smiled weakly at her, “It is.”

“You should sound more excited, I want to know why you haven’t told Thorin yet.” Dís inquired she could see as Thranduil tensed slightly glancing back at the book.

“I’m not sure.” Thranduil sighed in frustration. “I’ve been trying, for more than two weeks but something usually happens and then…”

“How far are you?”

“A month.” Thranduil winced when Dís exclaimed loudly shaking her head in indignation.

“A month?! And you haven’t told Thorin?” Dís placed her hand on the table firmly. “You have to tell him, you know what the Council has been trying to do. Why not share these good news already?”

Thranduil had been wondering the same as well, he wondered several times as Thorin laid beside him sleeping peacefully why he hadn’t said anything yet. The truth was Thranduil was scared, he was scared of the implications this might have. He was scared of having to live the same he had to live with Legolas, he was scared of saying something and then having Thorin ripped away from him. It was stupid and he knew it, he knew he was being foolish but he couldn’t help it. Dís wrapped her arms around the elf trying to give her support even though she couldn’t comprehend the feelings of the elf, the news itself had been wonderful but also a matter of concern and care. This was what many in the council and high positions were waiting for, many of them were already planning on bend Thorin’s hand to make him take another wife, a wife who could provide Erebor with an heir.

“I really have been trying, Thorin is just too busy. We both are. And then, there is the fact he is really too slow for the hints I’ve been sending his way.” Thranduil finally revealed, Dís chuckled shaking her head.

“I bet.” Dís looked around the room before settling her eyes on the elf. “We need to write this down, you are now part of our story, Thranduil, and this baby is going to be child of the line of Durín, he should be immortalized in these halls.”

“He doesn’t even have a name yet, besides doing this before I tell Thorin would not be correct.” Thranduil then grabbed the book from the table. “But I will, I will make sure this story is also told.”

Dís leaned back against the table caressing the book again, “When I got married and I became pregnant Thorin all but told me my first child should be called Fíli. It kind of shocked me, you know? I remembered him wanting to take those names for himself.”

The room stayed still for a moment before the Queen continued speaking, “He never said it, but I knew by then he had resigned himself to be alone, to not let love in. He had resigned himself to not have a family for fear of becoming the reflection of my father.”

“He is nothing like Thráin.” Thranduil replied spitting out the name. “He is…he is Thorin.”

“Well said. It is good to know both of you are still so much in love with one another.” Dís straightened up pointing at the book. “Tell him. You promise me and him that you will make him happy, tell him about his child and allow yourself and him be happy all over again.”

“I will, I promise.” Thranduil grabbed the book taking a deep breath. “Now, how do I tell him?”

“You cannot be subtle, of that I’m pretty sure.” The room filled with silence and the Elven-King suddenly felt lighter. Another person knew about his condition and now he just needed to be brave and speak with Thorin.

“How are you feeling, by the way? Shouldn’t you be with the healers?”

“I’ve been watching after myself, I feel…incredible.” Thranduil melted right away with his lips curling up prettily and his eyes gleaming brightly. “This time around is…different.”

“Different?”

Thranduil nodded furrowing his brows, “I feel more at peace…if scared. When I was expecting Legolas…something was missing.”

“Have you told Legolas already?”

“No, not yet. That’s another conversation I’m dreading.” Thranduil swallowed shaking away the bad memories. “I do not want him to think of this with jealousy because his brother may have better chances than he did when he was born.”

“Brother? You can tell the sex of your child already?” Dís inquired excitedly, Thranduil felt his cheeks warm a little.

“It’s a hunch.” Thranduil said simply.

Dís chuckled shaking her head, “You really need to share these good news, I cannot wait to see my brother’s face and the great feast that’s going to take place in celebration.”

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

The blizzard stroke the mountain in the middle of the night.

The guards screamed orders left and right to help those who had been outside the protection of the gates. Many of the guests that had come to the Day of Durin had left already but some, like Bard and his children, had stayed behind to deal with some state business with the Dwarven-King. The mountain became a warm refugee while the snowstorm fell with fury over the lands of Rhovanion; Fíli sneaked a glance outside playing with his breath creating warm forms while hugging himself protecting his body against the cold.

“This means you’re staying?” Fíli inquired tilting his head to see Bain standing behind him, the young man nodded pursing his lips with his eyes looking very far away.

“It looks that way, Prince Fíli.” Bain chuckled when Fíli lifted a fist in the air, his whole face brightened up at the idea.

“Yes! Then we can continue with the-you-know-what, right?” Fíli grabbed Bain dragging him away from the gate.

“Of course, of course. I was going to ask you the same.”

“Good, then let’s not waste time.” Fíli stepped forward only to crash against a tall figure, Legolas quirked a brow amusedly his blue eyes went from Bain to Fíli both Princes were wearing heavy jackets to protect them from the cold.

“Where are you going with such a hurry, Fíli?” Legolas expected the young dwarf to answer him right away, but the young dwarf looked around before setting his eyes on Bain who was just as speechless as Fíli.

“Uh, I…we…” Fíli trailed off shooting a helpless stare to Bain.

Legolas frowned watching from Fíli to Bain then back to Fíli, Bain scratched the back of his head smiling tentatively at the elf.

“Prince Fíli here promised me to show me some of his favorite places in the mountain.” Bain finally said feeling the relief coming from Fíli. “We just thought it would be a good idea to do it right now, since the blizzard is not going to stop anytime soon.”

“I see that seems like a very good idea, would you mind if I join you?” Legolas narrowed his eyes when Bain glanced at Fíli who seemed rather distracted.

“Of course not, Prince Legolas.” Bain smiled but his smile soon vanished when Legolas didn’t change his stern façade and Fíli seemed to be very unhelpful.

“Fíli?” Legolas finally asked and his voice softened slightly, Fíli looked up pursing his lips before nodding.

“Yes, please come with us. Then we can show Bain our favorite places.” Fíli then grabbed Legolas hand and then grabbed Bain’s one dragging them away.

Bard stood not far behind the three Princes, his eyes followed them until they disappeared behind an alley down to the commercial district of Erebor, the King of Dale shook his head snorting before turning around. The city of Erebor was a quiet place to be at the moment, many of his inhabitants were resting back in their homes while trying to warm up for the night. The sound of the wind and the storm seemed to surround the mountain while the snowstorm covered the land making it almost impossible to look beyond the gates.

“I believe your son has been put in an uncomfortable position.” Bard would always feel a shiver ran down his back whenever Thranduil spoke to him. Even after four years of them being nothing more than friends he still felt the elf deep inside his heart.

“I could see it.” Bard smiled gently at the elf who was coming towards him with something in his hands, the Elven-King smiled back and Bard could see he was looking radiant, if a little tired.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were down the training grounds taking on Dáin’s challenge.” Thranduil commented standing beside Bard, the King shrugged shaking his head.

“I do not believe myself capable of such physical activity right now. The night is turning out to be too cold and I’m afraid my soul is missing home.” Bard then turned to the Royal Palace before settling his eyes back on Thranduil. “Still, my children are happy running around your Kingdom, I do not think I can complain much.”

“Indeed they are, the last I heard little Tilda was with Orí enchanted by the Dwarven Library and Sigrid seemed rather interested in the business of the state she could learn with Balin and Glorfindel.” Thranduil started walking slowly his footsteps leading him and the man to the Royal palace.

“And now Bain is in the midst of a strange friendship.” Bard observed with care the sudden change in the elf’s face, Thranduil was looking contemplative with his blue eyes softened.

“Yes, he is.” Thranduil turned to Bard and the man understood his own words had betrayed him for he himself was in the midst of a strange friendship.

Regardless of his feelings for Thranduil, the man had come to appreciate Thorin in ways he never thought possible. The Dwarven-King was brash and determined, he was a force to be reckon with whenever he set his mind on something, Bard had come to respected him for in the few years he had been King Erebor had grown alongside the lands of the Elves between him and Thranduil had achieved the impossible with two races that had been on a silent, cold war for so long. Nevertheless, what made Bard respect Thorin even more was his deep love for Thranduil. Thorin was always looking at Thranduil as if he was the only thing that matter in the world, the King was always soft and tender whenever he was around Thranduil, he was protective and loving making sure Thranduil felt loved.

“What were you planning to do?” Thranduil inquired suddenly, Bard raised his brows surprised by the question.

“Nothing in particular, my Lord. Merely stroll around the mountain before going back to my quarters.” Bard then smirked glancing at the book Thranduil was holding. “And you, my Lord Thranduil, what were you planning to do? Any interesting reading to have your husband at peace or amused during the night?”

Thranduil rolled his eyes though his lips twitched upwards for a moment, “No, for your information, King Bard, this book was only for my own amusement. I was thinking on going to my private quarters and enjoy the falling snow while reading.”

“Where is your husband to save you from such boredom?” Bard asked half-horrified and half-amused. “You’re not actually thinking on reading, are you? Not with such a cold night…”

“The cold doesn’t affect me the way it does mortals.” Thranduil retorted. “I was still considering if reading was the best option. My husband is finishing some preparations for the Winter Festival, so tonight I will have him late to do nothing else than sleep.”

“Ugh, please save your further comments on the matter.” Bard commented making a face.

Thranduil chuckled placing a hand on the man’s shoulder, “I do not speak out of malice.”

“I know, don’t worry.” Bard looked around the hall finding some empty chairs around the fire, some of the dwarves or elves inside the room were playing or talking, some others were reading or merely smoking. “Is he really that busy?”

“He is.” Thranduil sighed lowering his gaze to the book on his hand.

Bard swallowed looking away as he spoke, “You should go to him. I bet he misses you and wants nothing else than for you to be with him.”

“Probably.” Thranduil replied glancing around the room. “And you? What are you going to do?”

“I believe I’m going to save Lord Balin and Captain Glorfindel from my daughter’s clutches, she can be very enthusiastic when speaking about politics.”

Thranduil snickered tilting his head, “They’re back at Bilbo’s place, if you want to know. Ask around, King Bard, everyone knows where Bilbo lives.”

Bard bowed his head in a grateful gesture, the man stood there watching as Thranduil walked away. For a moment, Bard felt a sharp pain in his heart but this was soon forgotten and the King was back to normal; he knew Thorin was making Thranduil happy and this was all that matters.

*****

Thranduil entered the King’s office in silence, his blue eyes fell upon the sleeping form of the dwarf. He softened before the sight of Thorin resting his head on the desk with a quill still on his hand, the elf approached the desk closing the door behind him. The fire was hissing in the silent room, its heat was comforting with its orange light bringing a comfy feeling; the elf placed his hand on the dwarf’s face, his fingers caressing the skin while moving some strands of black hair away from his lovers face. Thranduil knelt down his lips curling slightly, his free hand moving unconsciously to his abdomen.

Thorin stirred in his sleep, he tensed slightly with his eyes trying to open. Thranduil leaned in placing a soft kiss on Thorin’s lips, it was a simple peck but it was enough to make Thorin aware of his surroundings. Thorin smiled with his head still on the desk, his eyes finding those of Thranduil as easy as he found his heart beat every waking moment.

“You look tired.” Thorin whispered lifting his hand to caress the elf’s cheek, Thorin furrowed his brows cupping the side of Thranduil’s face. “Why do you look tired?”

“Perhaps because I cannot find sleep with you so far away from me?” Thranduil felt himself being put forward until his lips found those of Thorin again.

They kissed slowly, tentatively with a hint of an invitation there. Thorin was seeking comfort while Thranduil was begging to be held, the Dwarven-King broke the kiss straightening up putting Thranduil to him. The sudden movement caught Thranduil by surprise making him drop the book he had been holding.

“What is that?” Thorin asked curiously.

“A book, my love.” Thranduil replied with Thorin leaning in to pick it up, the dwarf opened his eyes in surprised looking from the book to Thranduil.

“This is the Twin’s story. Why are you with this?” Thorin inquired with curiosity, Thranduil tensed slightly feeling this was the right moment to speak with Thorin.

“Dís told me about the story of the twins again, I thought I should read it again.” Thranduil swallowed offering a tentative smile to his lover. “This could give me an idea of what kind of name should we chose for our son.”

“I love this story and I’m glad you have come with such…” Thorin trailed off furrowing his brows, the dwarf cocked his head in confusion his eyes flickering from the book to the expectant face of the elf.

For a moment there was only silence between them, Thranduil held Thorin’s stare trying to remain impassive while Thorin seemed to be thinking really hard about the elf’s words. Then, those dark eyes opened really wide with a hopeful glint.

“What do you mean?” Thorin finally asked.

Thranduil noticed he was still kneeling beside Thorin, his spirit shivered with ease at the closeness of his mate. The very nature Thranduil had been given at birth rejoiced in the submissive position he seemed to be in, the Elven-King leaned forward warming up when Thorin placed his hand under his chin lifting his face so their eyes met.

“Thranduil?” Thorin asked again, his heart was beating fast.

“I thought our first-born should be named after one of your ancestors, don’t you think?” Thranduil replied giving Thorin a half-smile.

Thorin sat there for a long time with an expressionless face, then he broke into a huge grin leaning in.

“You mean…”

Thranduil nodded, “I’m with child.”

Thorin felt his heart burst with joy, he wrapped his arms around the elf before placing a needy kiss on his lips. When he broke the kiss he pressed his forehead against Thranduil’s one caressing the side of the face of the elf with his lips curled in the biggest grin Thranduil had ever seen on his lover’s face.

“You really are?” Thorin inquired with a tremble in his voice. “We really are going to have a child?”

Thranduil nodded again closing his eyes to enjoy brush of seeking lips, his body arming up under the spirit of his mate. Thorin took Thranduil in his arms thanking the position the elf was still in for it gave him free access to his lover, when Thorin broke the kiss he grinned again with his eyes gleaming. Then, he started laughing standing up and putting Thranduil up as well; the Elven-King felt relief in his heart he gave in the happiness Thorin was feeling and soon he was taken to the closest sofa in the King’s studio with Thorin hovering above him placing sweet kisses all over his face before lying down putting Thranduil to him.

“We need to tell everyone! We need to make a huge fest…”

Thranduil cut Thorin by placing his hand on the dwarf’s mouth, Thorin licked the palm to which Thranduil merely made a face shaking his head. Thorin was looking so happy; his face seemed to take in a new light, younger and stronger.

“We will tell everyone.” Thranduil then said smiling tentatively at the dwarf.

“We should do it right now.” Thorin said to which Thranduil shook his head.

“Right now, Meleth-nîn, I want to be here with you…” Thranduil rested his head on the dwarf’s shoulder and it wasn’t until this moment Thorin sensed the concern coming from his lover.

“Are you all right? Is it everything all right? Do we need a healer?” Thorin spoke fast hugging Thranduil closer to him, the elf chuckled shaking his head.

“No, I’m all right.”

“Has the healer seen you already?” Thorin inquired worriedly.

“No, I’ve been taking care of myself just fine.” Thranduil felt Thorin lifting his face, he found himself lost in those deep, dark eyes with love spreading through his body.

“We will call the healer tomorrow. I need to know you are all right.” Thorin leaned in placing a tender kiss on Thranduil’s forehead. “What have you so worried?”

“I was afraid of telling you, I was still thinking about the past to give myself a chance with these news.” Thranduil confessed.

“We’re going to have a child.” Thorin whispered without holding back his emotions, Thranduil nuzzled his face on the dwarf’s neck feeling those strong arms wrapping comfortably around him. “Mahal, Thranduil, we’re going to be parents…we really…how long does it take? How are you so sure?”

Thranduil placed a hand on his abdomen and soon Thorin followed, the dwarf glanced with curiosity the form of his lover and the position of their hands. He was still wondering how it happened while registering the news in between his happiness and incredulity.

“I can feel him.” Thranduil said softly. “Close your eyes, Meleth-nîn. Let me guide you so you can feel it too.”

“Can I? really?” Thorin sat up allowing the elf to lay on his back on the sofa, Thranduil nodded placing his lover’s hand on his abdomen watching as Thorin closed his eyes expectantly.

Thorin stopped breathing for a second feeling his connection with Thranduil in every fiber of his body, he trembled when desire and lust turned into pure and deep love. He felt Thranduil guiding him through their many emotions and thoughts until they came before a strange barrier. Thorin gasped when he came before a presence he had never felt before, it was there he recognized the strange aroma he had caught on Thranduil for quite some time but he never paid attention to. When Thorin fluttered his eyes open he saw Thranduil flustered with a half-smile on his beautiful face.

“Men lananubukhs menu.” Thorin whispered placing his forehead against Thranduil’s one.

“Gi melin.” Thranduil replied closing his eyes feeling Thorin lying beside him.

“We really are going to be parents?” Thorin asked again, Thranduil rolled his eyes nodding.

“We are.” Thranduil felt Thorin tightening his hold on him.

“So, is it too early to think about our second, third and fourth child?” Thorin asked smirking when he saw the look of pure horror and disbelief in his lover.

“You’re not even close if you think…” But, whatever Thranduil was thinking or was about to say never got a chance to be voiced for the elf soon found himself being kissed in the midst of passion and love.

The rest of the night, while the storm kept on ravaging the land; Thorin Oakenshield made love to the elf with the promise of an extraordinary future before them.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this part was quite difficult. I didn't know how to write the news and for it to look realistic or...I don't know for this revelation to fit. I really hope you like this chapter, because the story is almost reaching its end.
> 
> Next chapter pregnant!Thranduil, Jealous!Legolas and Thorin really doesn't know what to expect when his husband goes into labor.


	27. The beginning of the end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Many good-byes and a chapter in the lives of Thorin and Thranduil is closing to give welcome to a new one. Just a prelude before a new Era begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there my dear readers!  
> So, I lie, sorry!!  
> Either way, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I do apologize for the grammar, spelling or funny mistakes you may find in here.

**Chapter 27**

**The beginning of the end**

“To the future King or Queen of Erebor and Mirkwood!” Dwalin lifted his glass up in the air smirking.

Thorin grinned widely lifting his own glass feeling his body tingled with emotion, the rest of the company all lifted their glasses and cheered as one. Bilbo’s living room hadn’t changed much in the last years; Thorin had offered him a better place, bigger and filled with luxury the hobbit had refused. He had explained to his friend how it would be useless for him to live in a big home if he was a mere hobbit living alone in a big city, his small patisserie was still enough for him and he could not let Bombur and Bofur to take over the management of his business. Thorin decided to not say much about the matter; though he usually made sure Bilbo lack nothing. Now, they were in the living room where so many stories and nights had been spent, where they had shared the happiness and sadness of their lives; Thorin lowered his gaze to his beer smiling still aware of the eyes of his friends on him.

“I have to say, my Liege, you and King Thranduil have us worried with the lack of news about an heir…”Bofur asked leaning forward with a half-smile adorning his features, the rest of the room stirred uncomfortably glaring at the dwarf who merely shrugged before speaking again, “But, anyway, tell us when are we waiting the little dwelf to come and share with us a good beer?”

“I don’t think he is going to share a beer with us until he has reached adulthood, Bofur.” Bilbo rolled his eyes. “Still, you do have a point, how far is he? And, is it going to be normal or…”

“Let’s face it, since we know Thrandy can procreated we all have been wondering how the heck does he put a baby there and how is he going to put it out.” Nori replied hitting the table in a nonsense manner.

Thorin almost choked on his beer at the bluntness behind the commentary, his dark eyes lifted to glare at his friend while Balin and Bilbo shook their heads. The rest of the table, however, was just as curious as Nori. The Dwarven-King soon found himself the subject off of curious eyes, he shifted on the chair looking down then up, then lifting his hand to scratch his beard. Bofur snorted crossing his arms.

“You don’t know, do you?” Bofur quirked a brow when his King seemed to be flustered all of a sudden.

“I cannot believe you haven’t asked yet!” Replied Bilbo when he saw Bofur was right.

“Well, you can’t blame me! It’s not something I was worried about until it happened.” Thorin grumble crossing his arms. “And then, well…I was too busy and to excite to even ask.”

“Hn, I can only guess.” Dori said shaking his head. “Now, we will have to ask Thranduil.”

“Where is he anyway?” Dwalin asked looking around with a frown in place.

Thorin made a face his eyes flickering with worry, “He is with Legolas.”

The table fell in silence with all the presents looking at one another, Thorin placed his arms on the table for he knew why the sudden silence. Everyone in the room had come to love Legolas in one way or another, the elf had become part of the family even before Thranduil actually joined them. All of them had heard the story, and all of them had known how difficult had been for Legolas to be a shameful secret. The news of a baby arriving soon could bring some negative emotions to the young elf, Bilbo gave Thorin a sympathetic look.

“You know you count with us, don’t you?” Bilbo said waving his hands around. “Legolas is going to be fine, but you will have to speak with him as well.”

“The new dwelf is going to change many things and he will probably have what Legolas didn’t.”

“I know this, I want to go with Thranduil but he wants to do this alone.” Thorin shrugged.

“Legolas is a good lad, you know? He is going to be fine.” Balin commented.

Thorin nodded curtly but his could not help but feel worried about the situation, the Dwarven-King had seen how much Thranduil tried to make up for the time lost with his son. The Dwarven-King soon found himself in a different conversation, the group started making theories about the strangeness of a male being pregnant and how Thranduil would change.  He soon found himself the subject of several questions, most of them inappropriate and things he most certainly would not share with the group. In the midst of a discussion, Thorin allowed himself a little time in silence, his mind drifting away worrying over his husband and his adoptive son wanting nothing more than to be with them.

“You know you can go, don’t you?” Bilbo had sneaked around to stand beside him, the hobbit was shooting him a knowing stare and Thorin had to wonder how he did it, how he was capable of anticipating Thorin’s thoughts.

“I don’t want to intrude in their conversation.” Thorin replied. “Thranduil asked me to let him do this alone.”

“I understand it, but…” Bilbo pursed his lips before speaking again. “Is it what you really want? Is it what Thranduil really needs at the moment? Remember we will make the announcement tomorrow, today everything needs to be solved and he and Legolas will need you by their side.”

Thorin shook his head giving his friend a warm smile, “How is it you are always wiser than me?”

“Oh, the wonders of being a simple hobbit, my Liege.” Bilbo replied to which Thorin could only make a face.

“Please, Master Baggins, abstain yourself from calling me with such formality.” Thorin placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, go. I distract them with some food.” Thorin chuckled standing up sneaking out of the house with Bilbo following with his eyes.

Balin stood beside the hobbit, “What do you think?”

“He looks happy. He looks really happy.” Bilbo replied smiling softly. “He has been waiting for this for a long time, Balin. He deserves all the happiness he has been gathering as of late.”

“You are right, Lad. He deserves this, and he looks happy.” Balin sighed crossing his arms. “He finally is getting what he deserves, I just hope Legolas is all right after the news.”

“He is going to be fine. But we will need to be there for him, you know? He is still Thranduil and Thorin’s son.” Bilbo commented loudly and firmly, the rest of the table all nodded in agreement.

*****

The day was grey threatening with the fury of another snowstorm.

The temperature had dropped again to the point it had left the Valley empty of anyone who didn’t bring with them heavy coats made of fur and cotton. The ground was decorated with white and grey while the trees seemed to take into a darker green and brown, the air was filled with the scent of ice and winter overwhelming the senses of those who enjoyed the blessings of spring. Legolas stepped forward with his arms lifted to ready his bow, he took a deep breath watching with care the form of the wolf sniffing the area. The young elf furrowed his brows, his eyes narrowing while his right hand relaxed letting go of the arrow he had been holding, the arrow whistle in the air flying at full speed towards its prey. The wolf shifted his ears running down the road until the metal point of the arrow came before the tree where moments before the animal had been standing.

“You moved too early.” Legolas tilted his head to see his father standing behind him, the Elven-King wore a silver cloak above his formal clothing, and his head was decorated with the crown of winter while his hand wore the cord Thorin had given to him years ago.

“Beleg is just used to this game.” Legolas replied shrugging, his lips however couldn’t hide the joy he was feeling at having his father shared this moment with him.

It had been a long time since they had come out to the forest and enjoy the sight of the open space and the world outside the mountain. It had been even longer since Legolas got to spend some time with his father; the King had come to him early in the day, an invitation on his lips and food and weapons at the ready for the long walk to the closest forest surrounding the hills leading to the lands of the east. Legolas had followed his father without any reservation, their walk turned into a conversation of nonsense and stories about the moments they didn’t share. They had walked for no more than an hour when Beleg had joined them howling and whining at having been left behind, Legolas had scratched his head easing the soft beast with his kind words. In all this time, Thranduil had tried to approach his son with the real reason behind this excursion but his tongue usually got tangle whenever he was about to speak. Now, midday had passed and the time for them to go back to Erebor was close and Thranduil was still finding a way to bring the news of his state to his son.

“You know? I’ve been missing this.” Legolas said suddenly leaning against a tree while lifting his face to the sky. “We used to walk around Mirkwood when I was younger.”

Thranduil nodded approaching his son with gentleness behind his stare, “I missed it too. My duties as a King should not be an excused to not do this once in a while.”

Legolas shook his head, “No, Ada, I understand. I really do. We should bring Thorin next time, that way it could be just the three of us.”

 Legolas was looking really excited with this idea, his young eyes stared at his father until he realized there was something bothering him. Thranduil had always wondered how it was possible for someone like him to be so joyful and young one minute and then so serious and old the next. Legolas approached his father furrowing his brows, they heard heavy footsteps behind them but it wasn’t necessary for them to turn to know Beleg was wiggling his tail watching from father to son waiting for one or the other to pet him.

“Is there something the matter?” Legolas finally asked.

“Yes, there is.” Thranduil answered slowly, he stepped forward before looking away. “There is something I need to tell you regarding what you noticed about me a few days ago.”

“You mean, your change in scent?” Legolas felt his body getting cold, his hear shrank in anticipation.

Thranduil nodded briefly trying to contain his emotions while explaining himself to his son, the breeze around them became colder and the sky darkened even more. Beleg sniffed around approaching his masters restlessly.

“There is a reason for this change, there is something I haven’t thought of in such a long time I didn’t understand what was happening at first.” Thranduil placed his right hand on top of Legolas’ shoulder, he could sense the discomfort and apprehension coming from his son.

“Ada, you’re worrying me. What is it?”

“I’m with child.” Thranduil finally revealed. “Me and Thorin, we’re going to have a child.”

Legolas felt his stomach drop in an explosion of coldness and numbness, he stood there blinking away for a couple of minutes. Those blue eyes, still young and lively found the ones of his father, older and sapient, still filled with the pain of the past and the apprehension of the present; Thranduil squeezed the shoulder under his hand glancing expectantly at his soon who had been learning the arts of concealing his feelings. Nothing happened for a moment, then Legolas broke into a huge grin showing of his white teeth, with a glint of happiness in his eyes.

“Ada! These are wonderful news!” Thranduil felt relief invaded his heart when he found himself wrapped around the arms of his son. The young elf put some distance in between them still smiling. “How did you realize this? Are you all right? Does Thorin know?”

Thranduil chuckled thinking himself a fool for fearing his son’s reaction to the news, he eyed Legolas before answering his questions. Their conversation was soon taken down a different road, a place in which Legolas was unsure on how to proceed and Thranduil was far too distracted to notice his son’s emotions. The afternoon fell rather fast and with it came the snowflakes announcing an oncoming storm; Thranduil shivered feeling the bitterness of winter in his skin.

“Ada, are you cold?” Legolas inquired with a hint of surprised in his tone, Thranduil nodded briefly with his lips curling in a half-smile.

“It is a cold day.” Thranduil straightened up fighting against the weather, Legolas furrowed his brows taking off his own robe to place it around his father’s shoulders.

“It is not every day you see an elf shiver in cold.” Legolas tilted his head, his eyes flickering to look away. “Did you feel the same when you were expecting me?”

The question came before Legolas could stop it, he tensed slightly not daring to look over at his father. Thranduil cocked his head to the side regarding his son with inquisitive eyes, the Elven-King felt the comfort of the new piece of clothing on him while his most parental side seemed to react to his new state of pregnancy and the closeness of his first-born. The question made the King think about the answer, he recalled his memories of the time he had been expecting Legolas. The young elf could see, out of the corner of his eyes, how the lips of his father curled up slowly in a wishful smile.

“I wasn’t aware of your existence until I was a month into the pregnancy.” Thranduil informed his son signaling with his hand the road back to Erebor. Beleg jumped behind them sniffing around walking in circles around the elves. Legolas regarded his father hearing him for what seemed the very first time as he spoke of the time he had found out about Legolas.

“It was Glorfindel the first one to notice. Then, my scent was giving away my state and soon Father had to hide away my indiscretion.” Thranduil trailed off shaking away the bad memories of such a time. “I started feeling weak all of a sudden, I felt the cold of the night and the warm of the day.”

“Were you sick?” Legolas inquired regarding his father with concern eyes, his stared delay on the form of the still flat abdomen of Thranduil.

“Sick?” Thranduil repeated thinking for a moment before answering. “In a way, the male body is not made to carry a child; even if our race and nature allows such miracle, it is a hardship we are not used to. As if that wasn’t enough, creating and nurturing a new life can be extenuating.”

Legolas furrowed his brows nodding as if he really understood his father’s words, the Elven-King softened stepping closer to his son wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“I have never regretted having you, Legolas. You were my very first miracle and I love you the moment I first sense you inside me.” Thranduil stopped their stroll to turn his son around and place his forehead against his son’s one, much like Thorin usually did in comfort. “I will never regret you, and I will always love you. You know that, don’t you Ion-nîn?”

Legolas swallowed down his emotions, trying to cover up the tears forming in his eyes. He nodded offering a watery smile to his father who smile back.

“Let’s go back, it is getting cold and the snowstorm is coming again.”

Both, father and son, King and Prince returned to the mountain to welcome the warm of home and the great celebration Thorin had organized in their absence. Legolas watched amusedly as his father was hugged and congratulate by the company, when he soon was welcomed inside of Erebor in the midst of cheers and great declarations of loyalty and divine gifts. Everyone was speaking about the miracle of their Kings, everyone had something to say about the oncoming heir of both Kingdoms. The council of the Dwarves approached their Kings with surprised in their faces, though most of them seemed pleased by the news.  The elves inhabiting Erebor were nodding in approval thinking it was about time such an even were to happen. Everyone seemed complete busy in the commotion and congratulations, no one seemed to notice there were two males rather thoughtful and slightly sad trying to hide away their forms in the shadows of the great hall.

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

The celebrations of the news went way past dawn, and even after the mountain awoke to another snowstorm the celebrations continued. The news of King Thranduil’s pregnancy had been taking in many ways and forms; for some it was a miracle by the gods who had deemed their monarchs worthy enough of procreating. For some others it was witchcraft because, wasn’t Gandalf the Grey a Wizard and a great friend of the Lord Chamberlain Bilbo and the Dwarven-King himself? Then, there were those who saw a dark panorama in the news of a new heir, mainly because their ambitions had been put to an abruptly stop now their daughters or the females in their families to be part of the Royal family.

For the elves things were simpler, the Kings had finally culminate their union and the love their share for one another was as truthful as the raising of the sun. Thus, elves and dwarves and everyone still in Erebor celebrated and enjoy the festivities while the mountain was suffering the unmerciful passing of the weather.

Thorin Oakenshield sneaked around the Royal Palace, he made sure his husband was rightfully distracted by the company and Dís all of them had interesting questions he knew Thranduil would answer or murder their friends in trying to. Thorin stepped outside of the secondary dining room to make his way down the hall leading to the Royal quarters, he looked around his home realizing many of the servants and the guards were attending the main festivities in the public squares of the city. The Dwarven-King walked with decision and a single goal in his mind, he turned left then right and started ascending the stairs. It didn’t take him long before he reached his destination, he knocked once, twice then thrice until he heard the bark of a very enthusiastic Beleg. When he opened the door, Beleg jumped on him licking his face before stepping back and dragging him around the room.

“Very well, very well, you beast calm down…” Thorin grumbled shaking his head while cleaning up his face. The dwarf stepped forward until he crossed the threshold leading to the balcony where he found Legolas watching the land spreading before him. “So, you were here after all.”

Legolas stiffened without turning around, his eyes lowered to stare into the white land while he welcome the falling snow on his hands. Thorin stepped forward shivering under the coldness of the morning, he regarded the young elf before standing beside him. They didn’t speak for a while, Legolas was trying to ignore Thorin while Thorin was embracing himself to try and keep himself warm.

“Why are you here? Father is going to miss you.” Legolas mumbled suddenly, the elf watched Thorin out of the corner of his eyes.

Thorin shook his head, “No, I don’t think so. Bofur, Balin and the others are asking uncomfortable questions about elven reproduction and male pregnancies for him to miss me anytime soon.”

Legolas snickered, “Oh, you didn’t leave my father to face such a conversation.”

“I did.” Thorin smirked. “I will pay for this later, though.”

“You probably will.”

The fell silence again with Legolas turning around to face the yellow light of the fire burning in his room, Thorin sighed watching his warm breath in front of him.

“Are you all right?” Thorin finally asked without looking at the elf beside him.

“I don’t know.” Legolas decided honesty was the best course of action, his heart was hammering fast and hard against his chest while his eyes stung with unshed tears. “I’m happy for you and Ada. I really am.”

Thorin had to lift his face when he caught the watery tone in the elf’s voice, he watched as Legolas wiped his tears away with anger in his gestures.

“I apologize, this is not fit for…”

“Nonsense.” Thorin interrupted the elf shaking his head. “It is perfectly normal to feel angry and sad and whatever else you’re feeling.”

Legolas dropped his head clenching his fists, “I shouldn’t feel this, Thorin. It’s not right.”

“I used to hate Frerin.” Thorin said suddenly. “My younger brother, he…father always loved him more than me. Ever since mother was pregnant with him.”

Thorin spoke softly, his voice hollowed and filled with memory of a time he longed to forget. Legolas opened his eyes to stare at the dwarf who decided the floor was a better place to focus his stare.

“As he grew my hatred for him came into conflict with the natural, brotherly love I felt for him.” Thorin gave away a wry smile shaking his head. “I have never said this to anyone but…A part of me was happy when he was murdered.”

Legolas glanced at Thorin with a hint of disbelief and sympathy in his eyes, Thorin turned to him shrugging.

“So, whatever it is you’re feeling it is not as bad as what I thought back then.”

“Still, it doesn’t excuse this emotion.” Legolas mumbled. “I’m sorry about your brother, though. And you. It must not have been easy.”

“It wasn’t.” Thorin hugged himself again.

“I feel jealous of someone who hasn’t even been born yet.” Legolas revealed. “I just thought…when father found out about me it wasn’t a happy event.”

Thorin shivered again shaking his head, “Look, we can continue this conversation inside. You elves may not feel the cold but we dwarves usually do.”

Legolas chuckled following Thorin inside his room, “I apologize, I usually forget about those inconveniences. But, don’t worry, Thorin, with time the cold is not going to affect you as much as it does now.”

“So I heard, but until such a time arrives I much prefer the warm of a good fire.” Thorin sat down wiping away the snow from his shoulders.

“I really am happy, you know?” Legolas spoke again approaching the dwarf, he hesitated for a second before sitting down on the floor resting his back against the side of the chair. Beleg curled up at his side while Thorin glanced at the young elf curiously.

“I know Ada deserves this and you.” Legolas sighed. “I just need to get use to the idea of…”

“Of being an older brother.” Thorin commented leaning back to grab a lock of golden hair from Legolas head. “It is not an easy task, the child will need someone to teach him how to use a bow and how to ride a horse. He will need someone to share what he will not be able to share with us. He will need someone to teach him how to fight and be a Prince.”

Legolas felt his eyes stung again, the tears formed as he felt the fingers of the dwarf working on a braid. The elf couldn’t help but feel stupid for allowing such selfish emotions in him, his mind had been revolving around dark scenarios while all he had to do was face the reality and move on. He felt comfort in the care Thorin was giving to him, the words of the Dwarven-King had awoken a longing for the future while, at the same time, it had made him comprehend his own conflictive emotions.

“I know it must not mean a lot, and I am not pretending to be Haldir.” Thorin said clearing his throat as he worked on the braid, he had learned this same pattern a long time ago when he had sitting down and fixed Frerin and Dís hair. “But, I have come to think of you as a son. For what it is worth, you are the rightful heir to both thrones, you are and always will be Thranduil’s first born and my first adoptive son.”

Legolas nodded feeling the tears rolled down his cheeks, he didn’t know how or when but in the end he ended up in Thorin’s arms finally giving in his own emotions of sadness and wistfulness. He spent his night crying for what had happened in the past, for the things that had been denied to him as well as for the things he was getting now. Thorin for his part hugged him tight offering comfort while feeling sympathy and affection for the young elf, his soul reaching out for Legolas to try and give comfort.

*****

Bard drank his tenth glass of ale while looking at some point in the wall.

He felt dizzy still, the news of the pregnancy had caught him by surprise at first but, when he tried to laugh it out he realized he wasn’t being lied to. Captain Glorfindel had tried to explain how the possibility of an elf, a male elf, getting pregnant was very possible and his conversation turned out to be a great explanation why Thranduil never allowed him to be on top. Bard turned around staggering a little before shaking his head, his eyesight had become blurry and the King of Dale wasn’t even sure if it was due to the alcohol in his blood or the fact he felt miserable.

Bard sat down watching as the door of his room opened and was left that way, he narrowed his eyes trying to focus his eye sight without any success. He heard the footsteps before he took his glass back to his lips.

“Is this what you are going to do now, Bard?” Glorfindel approached the King slowly sitting down on the chair beside him, the King of Dale frown lowering his glass.

“Perhaps.” His voice was raspy, he dragged the words with and slow tongue. “At least, it’s what I’m doing right now. I’m not very good.”

“Yes, I can see that.” Glorfindel replied dryly.

Bard nodded before asking again, “It is really pathetic, you know? What I am doing now.”

“Yes, and it is even more pathetic to do it in my room.” Glorfindel replied with sarcasm in his voice.

“It was the only place with real alcohol.” Bard shrugged. “I should have moved on by now, you know? But…”

Glorfindel nodded, “I know.”

Bard lowered his glass with a sad gesture, “I just need a moment before I go out to congratulate him, you know? I really am happy for them. I really…It makes me happy whenever I see him happy.”

Glorfindel pursed his lips moving to pick up the glass, he made sure Bard was in the right position to sleep so he would not throw up or anything happened to him during the night. The Captain of the Elven guards took a blanket from his bed and put on the King, he sighed wishing there was something he could do to ease the pain of the man. Without making much noise, Glorfindel left closing the door behind him.

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

The Winter Festival came and left.

By the time winter was starting to step back and the world was ready to welcome spring, live in Erebor returned to normal. The conversation Thorin had with Legolas and the conversation Glorfindel shared with a drunk Bard remained a secret for everyone but them, the relationship between Thorin and Legolas had deepened though and the relationship between Glorfindel and Bard had shifted into something neither male knew how to describe.

The snow was starting to melt, and the sun was shining bright in the sky many had come out of the mountain to say good-bye to the sister of the King and the King of Dale and his children. Fíli stood beside Bain in his room, he eyed the object on his bed while pursuing his lips thoughtfully with Bain shaking his head in amusement.

“You think he will like it?” Fíli finally asked looking up at Bain.

“Definitely, Prince Fíli. He will love it, and he will love it even more if it’s a gift from you.” Bain observed as the face of the nine-year-old lit up completely showing off a toothy grin.

“Really? Good, then…” Fíli took a deep breath taking the box in his arm, Bain opened his eyes standing behind the young dwarf to make sure he would not fall on his behind due to the weight he was lifting.

“Then, let’s go.” Fíli said breathlessly.

Bain nodded making sure Fíli could walk before moving to open the door, both Princes left the room making their way to the main entrance where everyone was already waiting for them. The gates of Erebor were a swarm where everyone seemed to be reunited at the moment, Fíli stepped forward trying to look around until he located Thranduil and his uncle.

“Uncle!” Thorin and Thranduil both turned at the same time, Thorin furrowing his brows in confusion while Thranduil merely smirked at the sight.

“Fíli, what is that?” Thorin inquired only to be ignored by his nephew who moved past him to stand before Thranduil, the Elven-King gave a smug stare to his husband who could only roll his eyes. “Go ahead, ignored your actual blood uncle.”

“Oh, don’t be jealous, Meleth-nîn, it doesn’t suit you and you and I both know I’m the favorite one, right Fíli?” Thranduil watched with amusement as Fíli stopped dead on his tracks looking for one King to the other.

Dís made a sound with her tongue shaking her head while glaring at both Kings, “I surely hope you’re not putting my son in a very uncomfortable situation, like making he chose between one or the other.”

“It wouldn’t work either way, Queen Dís.” Bard approached the group with a half-smile on his face, his eyes on the young dwarf. “Because we all know who is his favorite person in the whole world, don’t we Prince Fíli?”

Fíli felt his cheeks burn, he looked away hugging the box tightly. Dís could only snort while Thorin chuckled nodding in agreement, Thranduil lifted his stare to glance at Bard before turning his attention to their surroundings. Everything seemed to be ready for the Queen and his son to leave alongside Bard and his children, the only thing left was for Legolas to show himself.

“I want to thank you, both of you, for your hospitality.” Bard inclined his head to Thorin then to Thranduil, the man hesitated for a second before speaking again. “And, I want to congratulate you again for the wonderful news about your pregnancy. I have to say it was quite a surprise, but I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you.” Thranduil tilted his head with his eyes gleaming slightly.

“I sure hope you have a great time here, King Bard.” Thorin stepped forward blocking the stare of the man who was still looking at Thranduil with a trace of wistfulness in his eyes. “I want to thank you for coming and for your kind words, I hope we will see one another again.”

“We will, King Thorin.” Bard straightened up focusing his attention on the dwarf. “There are still some state matters I would like to discuss with you, but we can leave this for a later date. For now, my home is calling me.”

“Do not be a stranger, King Bard.” Thorin replied finally relaxing and stretching his hand. “You and your kin are always welcome in my home.”

Bard swallowed nodding while offering a half-smirk to the dwarf, “Thank you, the same goes for you and your family, Thorin.”

Thorin nodded curtly at him their conversation was suddenly interrupted by Legolas calling out to them, Glorfindel following close behind. The Captain of the guard shifted his stare for a moment until he noticed the King of Dale seemed rather interested in the tapestry hanging from the side wall leading to the toy-makers district.

“I’m sorry for the delay, I was getting something ready and…” Legolas trailed off when Fíli came to him flustered and carrying a box that seemed much taller than him. “What is this?”

Fíli lifted his stare to the elf, he hesitated before flickering his eyes to Thranduil who nodded briefly at him much like his mother was doing.

“I made something for you.” Fíli replied rather shyly. “I…I hope you like it.”

Legolas seemed taken aback by this revelation, the elf dared to look around to see everyone was watching them closely. He smiled weakly lifting his hand to scratch the back of his head, an old habit he had picked up from Thorin.

“Thank you, Fíli.” Legolas finally said grabbing the box that was not as big as it looked in the dwarf’s hands. Legolas watched the soft material of the black wood, his eyes went from the hinges to the lock keeping whatever was inside well-protected.

Fíli shifted expectantly watching as Legolas worked his hands around the lock, Glorfindel stepped forward grabbing the box to place it on top of his arms so Legolas could open it easily. The elf’s breath caught in his throat when he realized what was inside; Legolas admired the handy work of the weapon resting in there while looking from the box to Fíli.

“This is for me?” Legolas asked and Fíli could only nod. “But, where did you get it?”

“I made it.” Fíli replied with a hint of pride in his voice. “Bain and Uncle Thranduil help some.”

“But, he did all the important work.” Bain clarified stepping forward while placing a hand on Fíli’s shoulder, Legolas tensed slightly before picking up the bow.

Fíli had made a wonderful work in making a recurve bow, it was a fifty-five inches bow with an easy design that allow the user to change from his left to his right hand. Legolas admired the hard wood decorated with a deep green with his name written in quenya and Sindarin; Legolas allowed his fingers the sharp touch of the bow-string and he tested the force he could put when drawing the string. Legolas couldn’t help the sharp longing in his heart, or the fact he felt joyous with such a gift. He lifted his eyes to see Fíli was staring at him strangely the young dwarf held his gaze until he gave in looking away with a soft blush on his cheeks.

“I also made the arrows.” Fíli finally mumbled, Legolas chuckled leaning in to see there was a quiver filled with several arrows in there. The quiver was made to match the color of the leaves in winter, while the arrows held the same deep, dark green as the bow.

“Fíli, I don’t know what to say.” Legolas finally said placing the bow back on the box before kneeling down. “Thank you, this is a mighty gift I will treasure forever.”

Fíli felt his whole body warm at this, he smiled shyly hesitating before leaning in to place a kiss on top of Legolas forehead. Legolas opened his eyes in shocked, softening slightly when Fíli stepped back placing his hands behind his back, the Elven-Prince then put his hand in his pocket bringing a small box.

“I also have something for you. Not as mighty and powerful as your gift but…” Legolas placed it on the young dwarf’s hand but before Fíli could open it Legolas stopped him. “Not here, I want you to promise me you will open it once you’re back home.”

“I promise.”

*****

Thranduil watched as everyone was already on their horses or ponies, he lowered his gaze to Dís who stood beside him before joining her son who was already on a war-goat.

“How are you feeling?” Dís glanced at the Elven-King who seemed unchanged still, Thranduil placed a hand on his abdomen breathing slowly.

“I’m a little tired, and I’m starting to feel my energy being drained by the life growing in me.” Thranduil smiled gently and Dís could see the beauty behind the race of the Eldar under a new light.

“So, you feel wonderful.” Dís declared jokingly, she placed a hand on the elf’s arm leaning in. “Promise me if anything were to happen, good or bad, you will tell us.”

“I promise.” Thranduil replied seriously.

“Good, because I’ll be back for the birth of my nephew or niece but I want to make sure you and Thorin and Legolas are all right.” Dís squeezed the King’s arm. “Be careful, and take care of my foolish brother. I can see he is already mad with happiness planning crazy things for his child.”

Thranduil grinned foolishly nodding, “I know. I think he and Legolas are planning something, they seemed to whisper among themselves a lot.”

Dís shook her head before stepping back, “I’ll be back with Fíli by the time you’re ready to give birth, then. Good bye for now.”

“Good bye, Dís. May the blessings of my people and your people be with you and your son during the trip.”

Thorin, Thranduil and Legolas stood in the bridge of the gate watching as Dís and Fíli rode alongside Bard and his children leaving Erebor behind. Thorin leaned forward watching as Legolas held the gift given to him by Fíli with care, his face furrowing in confusion and longing; the Dwarven-King then turned to his husband sneaking his hand around to grasp Thranduil’s hand in his, Thranduil turned around to see Thorin smiling at him. The dwarf leaned forward placing a hand on his abdomen before kissing his knuckles.

“We should go back inside, _Amrâl._ The healer is coming today, and I want to make sure you rest some.”

Legolas turned around glancing at his father curiously, his lips curling slightly following both King’s back into the mountain.

  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to give you guys something before writing the two final chapters of the story. I hope you like this prelude, next chapter the baby is coming and....well, you're going to see some fluffy moments between Thorin and Thranduil, more of this new friendship between Glorfindel and Bard and a little Dwelf


	28. Kíli

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin never imagine his life will turn out to be so perfect, Thranduil never imagine he will reach happiness at some point in his live, Legolas always thought he will be forgotten and Kíli will realized he was born into a family full of love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, guys, this is it. The moment I will be waiting for and I know some of you guys have been waiting for this as well. I hope to not disappoint with this chapter. As always, remember English is not my mother tongue some you may find some grammar, spelling or funny mistakes. This was a very long chapter so, hope you really enjoy it.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing it.

**Chapter 28**

**Kíli**

Time went by changing alongside the seasons of the earth.

The Kingdoms of Erebor and Mirkwood kept on growing in economy and influence in the region of Rhovanion and their closest neighbors. Thorin had a natural talent for business while Thranduil seemed to be perfect for politics and diplomacy; their Kingdom was still young though many around the world had already heard about the incredible miracle that was the joined kingdoms of the elves and the dwarves. As the winter gave way to the spring and then to summer, the news about the Elven-King’s pregnancy had already reached their allies and those who had a fine ear. Many had already sent their regards to the Kings, and many had already set their eyes and their heirs on the Kingdom that promised to just keep on growing in power and wealth.

In the meanwhile, Thorin and Thranduil were just waiting.

Nine months had come and go in the blink of an eye; summer was still bringing warm days and warm nights even though autumn was just around the corner. The great forest of Mirkwood was getting ready for the Kings trip to Erebor, all of them were just waiting for the caravan that would bring Dís and Fíli back to the mountain just in time for the birth of the Royal heir.  Time had certainly passed and live in the Mountain and the Forest had turned into a small paradise for both Kings. For Thranduil it had become a new experience to enjoy the enclose space of the mountain where his spirit would warm up and felt at home, when they where in Mirkwood his soul would run rampant and he was again at home. For Thorin caring for Thranduil in his pregnancy had become a new adventure, he loved doting on him, loving him and protecting him when necessary; the Dwarven-King loved it even more when he got to make the elf happy, to make him smile whenever he made his dreams or petitions true. Thorin had enjoyed greatly to be near his husband, to see his belly grow as the live inside him grew as well; their lives had been perfect and now all that they had to do was for their little baby to be born.

Thorin Oakenshield glanced out of the large windows of the room, his eyes fell almost immediately on the silver light of the summer moon kissing the green land of the forest. Thorin took a deep breath crossing his arms while his lungs filled with the fresh earthly aromas of his second home, the fresh breeze of the night touched his hot skin refreshing him. The Dwarven-King flickered his stare to see the sleeping form of his husband, Thranduil was on his left side with his hair sprawled around the pillow and his right arm resting protectively around his round abdomen. Thorin felt another pang of concern pierced his heart, he felt the need to go over there and wrap his arms around his lover but, instead of doing this, he remained standing by the window. As of late, Thranduil had been feeling tired and sleepy, an unusual thing for an elf; Thorin remembered those very first nights beside him where Thranduil would remain awake watching over him only pretending to be sleeping. Now, their roles had change and it was Thorin the one who hadn’t felt the need to go to sleep, he was feeling less tired and was always ready to watch over his lover during the nights. The elven healers had told him this was normal, the King was spending a lot of energy nurturing and carrying the child inside him but even with those words of reassurance Thorin worried and Thranduil love him even more for this.

Thranduil stirred in his sleep turning slightly with a light frown on his forehead, Thorin stepped forward until he was kneeling right beside Thranduil. His hand went immediately to the elf’s abdomen and Thorin felt his heart stop when he felt the light tapping of the baby. The dwarf opened his eyes lifting his head to see if Thranduil had felt it but the elf was still deeply asleep, Thorin smiled when there was another tap and then another.

“You’re quite the kicker, aren’t you little one?” Thorin grinned caressing the soft skin of Thranduil’s abdomen, he leaned in to place a soft kiss when a hand positioned itself on his head.

“What are you doing?” Thranduil spoke softly, with his voice filled with sleep.

“The child was kicking.” Thorin replied and Thranduil couldn’t help but smile before the goofy expression Thorin had on his face.

“He has been doing this as of late. It is my belief he is getting impatient.”

“Well, I’m getting impatient, I want to see him or her already.” Thorin replied moving on top of the elf, he placed his hands at each side of Thranduil’s head, while his legs positioned at each side of the elf’s hips. 

Thranduil blinked slowly watching the dwarf hovering above him before Thorin spoke again. “Have I told you how beautiful you look like this?”

Thranduil rolled his eyes looking away flustered, “Several times.”

“Well, you are.” Thorin leaned in to place a kiss on the elf’s cheek. “I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

Thranduil placed his right arm around Thorin’s neck, “No, you didn’t.”

“Because, if you’re still tired I can lay beside you and sleep.” Thorin was saying this in a whisper, his lips already busy placing entrancing kisses in the elf’s neck and ear.

Thranduil chuckled putting Thorin to him and sealing their night with a needy kiss. Thorin smiled into the kiss, his lips dancing around the softness that was Thranduil, his tongue submitting the elven tongue being offered to him. He upheld his position with his left hand and his knees, while his right hand started caressing the warm skin of his lover. Thranduil sighed contentedly into the kiss, it had been far too long since he and Thorin had been together and he wasn’t about to jeopardize this moment.

The calloused fingertips of his lover brushed against his sensitive skin, Thranduil closed his eyes focusing his senses on the entrancing touch while his heart burst into excitement. Thorin touched the strong chest under him, his hand was dancing around with contained energy while his lips worked the outline of Thrandruil’s chin, his beard scratched and tickled the neck of his lover making Thranduil squirmed in delight. Thorin smirked with his eyes glowing into the night, he had learnt a long time ago he could make Thranduil feel in his soul every touch, every kiss if he were to focus his energy in his fingertips. It had been strange to discover he possessed such a power, another legacy of his mating with an elf.

“Thorin…” Thranduil whimpered arching his back until his round abdomen came into contact with Thorin’s flat one.

The Elven-King froze just as Thorin stopped what he was doing, his wandering hand placed itself on the elf’s abdomen while his dark eyes stopped gleaming and his eyebrows furrowed in concern. Thranduil glared at Thorin trying to put him down for another kiss but the dwarf shook his head, this time around his right hand rubbed tenderly the abdomen of the elf but whatever lust or desire he was feeling seemed to have stopped.

“No, don’t stop now.” Thranduil breathed out trying to put Thorin down.

“But, what if I hurt the baby? What if…” Thorin started and Thranduil was tempted to punch Thorin in the face.

“You won’t hurt him, Thorin.” Thranduil couldn’t help the tinge of annoyance in his voice, Thorin had been avoiding any physical contact of this nature ever since Thranduil started showing signs of his pregnancy. At first, Thranduil found it adorable, now it was becoming frustrating.

“But, what if when I start…you know…” Thorin made a gesture with his hand trying to not squirm uncomfortably under Thranduil’s glare. “What if I…”

“You won’t hurt him, trust me.” Thranduil replied firmly. “Thorin, I need you, I’ve been wanting you for a long time. Make love to me right now, or you will be sleeping in Dale for the next century.”

Thorin tensed under the threat, he glanced at Thranduil realizing the elf was dead serious about this. The Dwarven-King started caressing the elf’s abdomen, his hand moved further down while he leaned closer until his lips, beard and breath were teasing the elf’s mouth, their eyes locked in a heated stare.

“Are you sure I won’t hurt him?” Thorin inquired again, his hand tickling the thigh of his lover.

“Yes.” Thranduil breathed in.

“I really don’t want to hurt him or you. I promise myself I will protect you, him, Legolas…my family, with my life if necessary.” Thorin continued, this time around his lips grazed the lips of the elf, meanwhile his fingertips were teasing the hardening length of the elf.

“Thorin…” Thranduil whimpered again, his legs moving apart while his arm wrapped around the dwarf’s neck. “I need you inside me, I want to feel you deep inside me claiming me again…”

Thorin groaned with his thumb teasing the cockhead of the elf’s member, Thranduil moaned bucking his hips.

“I will give you what you want, _Amrâl_. I will make love to you tonight until you’re too tired to continue.” Thorin sealed his words with an unhurried kiss, Thranduil gave in accepting the kiss like a thirsty man.

The night warmed up but the breeze was keeping its inhabitants fresh, the lanterns of the road were still guiding the tired travelers to the great halls of the forest. Middle Earth was sleeping while the Kings of one of the most powerful Kingdoms joined as one proclaiming the name of one another into the night.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Legolas studied the road, his fingertips touching the wet land while Beleg stood beside him sniffing the air.

The young Prince tilted his head when Beleg started growling, the guards behind them tensed narrowing their eyes to look beyond the forest. Everything seemed to be at peace in the outskirts of Mirkwood, Legolas stood up grabbing his bow firmly. The leaves shivered under the caress of the wind, the sunlight sneaked around the thick underbrush barely touching the land of the forest.

“ _Hîren,_ Legolas.” Feren came from behind him, his hand was already on the hilt of his sword. “We should probably go back, my Lord.”

“No, I think we should keep going, Feren.” Legolas was still glancing deep into the forest, his eyesight could already see the edge of the forest where the wild lands were.

Feren shifted nervously shaking his head, “Your father will kill me, my Lord, if I allow you to go further down this path.”

“But, they are there!” Legolas exclaimed turning sharply to the commander of the Elven Guards of the forest.

Feren inclined his head, “I know, my Prince. But, for now, there is nothing we can do.”

“We could hunt them.” Legolas refused to go back, not when they had gotten to this place and they knew the spiders and those other wretched creatures were so close.

Beleg growled standing beside his master, the wolf was also ready to go deep into the forest. He felt in his blood the need to hunt and he was realizing this creature was stopping him and his master from their duty. Feren glanced at Beleg shifting uncomfortably, he lifted his face to look at the young Prince.

“My Lord, beyond this forest your father’s protection won’t be available for you or me.” Feren explained. “You know this, and you also know they allow us to follow them because they may have a trap set for us.”

This was also true, Legolas could not deny this. He had known the moment they found those clear marks in the forest these evil creatures had been setting the path of a trap. Legolas felt his spirit ignited trying to reveal to the logic presented to him, the young elf growled looking away.

“Fine, we go back.” He finally said glaring when Feren sighed in relief. “But, we will be back, Feren. My forest, my home, won’t be violate by these evilness.”

“I think you misunderstood me, _Hîren._ ” Feren replied. “I just want to walk away right now because we are not enough. But, we will come back and we will hunt them down. This time around, under our own terms.”

Legolas relented putting away his bow, he scratched the back of Beleg’s ear before nodding towards the path.

“Then, let’s go back. I bet father and Thorin will love these news.” Legolas started walking with the rest of the warriors around him. They hadn’t walked more than a few miles when approaching footsteps were heard, the elves spread around with Legolas and Feren standing alone in the clearing with their bows at the ready.

The tension in the air became relief when they realized it was one of their own, a dwarf actually who was wearing a mixture of elven and dwarven armor on him. The dwarf took a deep breath shaking his head, he thanked one of the elven guards when he passed on a bottle of water.

“Master Dwarf! Why the hurry?” Feren finally asked unable to hide his amusement.

“The Queen…” The dwarf took a deep breath shaking his head. “Queen Dís and Prince Fíli are here, I was told I should announced this to Prince Legolas right away.”

“And you came running all the way from where?” Legolas inquired with his heart beating fast.

The dwarf furrowed his brows confused, “From the main gates of the forest.”

There was a great exclamation amongst the warriors many whom were looking at the dwarf with curiosity. The dwarf shifted nervously before setting his eyes on the blond Prince.

“Master Dwarf, that’s quite the running set you have there.” Feren shook his head. “Please, take a rest and then we will talk about why you are there instead of being part of the hunters.”

The dwarf opened his eyes in both, admiration and anxiety, he sat down welcoming the refreshing touch of water on his throat. Legolas looked over at Beleg grinning like a kid, he turned to Feren who merely shook his head.

“I can trust you have everything under control, Feren?” Legolas asked.

“You can trust me, my Lord.” Feren watched as Legolas nodded before turning around and leaving running down the road before jumping up to travel from branch to branch with Beleg following close behind.

The dwarf glanced at the young Prince before he shook his head, “We really are a unique Kingdom, aren’t we?”

Feren chuckled shaking his head, “You have no idea.”

*****

Thorin Loved standing away watching from afar as Thranduil lead the court.

His eyes fell upon the regal form of his husband sitting down on the Antler Throne, his legs crossed and his hands resting on the armrests of the throne. His blue eyes flickering around watching with care at his subjects, the silver robe protecting his body from curious eyes. It was funny watching how some of the elves and even some of the dwarves squirmed under the harsh stare of the elf, when the news about the King’s pregnancy had reached them some nobles had tried to play it off and test the firmness of their King. They had found themselves quite shocked when Thranduil kept reign with the same spirit as he had done before his condition was known; if anything, Thranduil had made sure to let everyone know he was not someone they could mess with. Thorin chuckled when one of the Elven lords nodded begrudgingly when his request of marriage with Prince Legolas was denied.

“My son is not a toy, Lord Brûn.” Thranduil tilted his head narrowing his eyes to shut the Lord before he could protest. “Your recent interest in him is not of my concern. He will be married when he so desires it, if your daughter is the one he desires then by all means I will bless the union. As of right now, I believe they haven't even met yet.”

Thorin stepped forward uncrossing his arms, the elven lord hesitated for a moment before nodding again. Thorin made his way to the throne locking his eyes with his lover before turning around, the elf lord was glancing at the both of them sensing his request had been already dismissed.

“I do apologize, my King. It was never my intention to make it look as if Prince Legolas was a toy.” Lord Brûn said. “I was merely pointing to the fact he is way past the majority and he should be thinking about the future.”

“Do not concern yourself with these matters, Lord Brûn.” Thorin intervened. “He has time, and he will chose to marry or remain as he is right now. There is no hurry, after all.”

The elven lord nodded again looking away, Thranduil quirked a brow glancing back at the dwarf who was glaring at the elf. Before Lord Brûn could say anything else the gates of the Antler room were opened and Galion entered the room bowing deeply to his Kings.

“My lords, Queen Dís and Prince Fíli have arrived.”

Thranduil straightened up with Thorin helping him up, the both of them dismissed the elven lord before following Galion to the main gates. Thorin went to greet his sister embracing her while Fíli ran directly to the Elven-King, Thranduil chuckled kneeling down with great difficulty before wrapping his arms around the young Prince. Fíli crunched up his nose studying with care the form of the elf to which Thranduil could only answer with amusement and a half-smile.

“You don’t look different.” Fíli finally said. “Mom said you were with child and that you would be fat and big.”

“Fíli!” Dís looked mortified by this but the young dwarf was merely confused. Thranduil’s laughter filled the entrance hall, he stood up opening the robe protecting his pregnant form.

Fíli cocked his head to the side watching with curiosity the round abdomen of the elf, he stepped forward asking for permission with his eyes. Thranduil guided the little hand to the round form before Fíli stepped back smiling goofily.

“You don’t look so bad.” Fíli finally said. “Mom was telling me she looked huge and that she suspect you would look the same.”

“I’m going to leave you in Ered Luin next time I come here.” Dís commented rolling her eyes before greeting the elf.

“What can I say, pregnancy for elves is a different experience than the one mortals experiment.”

“You look good.” Dís commented nodding, “How are you feeling? How is everything going?”

“Perfect! Everything is perfect!” Thorin exclaimed putting an arm around his sister. “I feel him last night, he was kicking and Thranduil has been growing lovely every time I see him.”

Dís rolled her eyes shaking her head, her brother was really on the seventh heaven speaking about the unborn child and his husband. Soon, Thorin decided he should narrate what had happened after Dís left and he was pretty specific without omitting any detail. Thranduil observed the pair shaking his head before walking alongside Fíli, he could see the young Dwarf was looking around anxiously while playing with something he had on his finger.

“And, how are you doing Fíli? How was your trip?”

“It was nice, Uncle.” Fíli commented lowering his eyes in disappointment. “We traveled down the road leading to the Shire and we saw a lot of hobbits like Bilbo. Then, Mother took me to the road leading to Rivendell and I got to see a lot of elves.”

“Did you enjoy the trip?” Thranduil inquired to which Fíli nodded.

“Yes, I enjoying coming over and traveling the wild lands. I’ve been learning my way with the sword and the axe, so mother brought one of my teachers and I got to practice during the trip. Plus, now I have a war-goat and father deemed me worthy of wearing my second childhood braid.”

Thranduil opened his eyes slightly watching the other braid adorning the left side of Fíli’s head, he nodded approvingly to which Fíli could only grin.

“And, the ring you’re wearing was a gift from Víli as well?” Thranduil finally asked until Fíli went completely red shaking his head.

“No, uncle, this is….Legolas gave it to me last time I was here.” Fíli lowered his gaze lifting his hand so Thranduil could see the ring clearly.

It was a beautiful work, made of mithril and black silver, Legolas had worked the material to make a signet ring of considerable thickness with the form of a lion at the center of the ring and Fíli’s name engraved in Sindar. Thranduil couldn’t help but admire his son’s work, he shifted his stare to see Fíli looking at him expectantly,  with his lips slightly open as if he was about to say something.

“Fíli!” Fíli turned around grinning broadly to the running figure of Legolas, the young elf was smiling as well walking alongside Beleg who, without any warning, took off running until he jumped in throwing Fíli on the floor and licking his face as a welcoming gesture.

“Beleg!” Legolas went towards the pair, Fíli was on the floor laughing in delight while trying to move the big wolf off of him.

Thranduil stood far away from the commotion, with his lips curled up and his eyes gleaming in joy. Soon, Beleg stood up going over Legolas and licking him as well until he saw Thorin approaching and the Dwarven-King was the subject of the next attack. Laughter filled the hall, many of the presents watched the scene with warm in their hearts and a smile on their faces; Thranduil glanced at Dís who was trying to go unnoticed to the wolf.

“I’m happy you are back.” Thranduil spoke softly offering a gentle smile to the she-dwarf. “Thorin will need you once I go into labor.”

Dís laughed shaking her head, “I think you are the one who is going to need me, we can always knock my brother out so he doesn’t get in the way.”

Thranduil laughed imagining Dís knocking Thorin unconscious, he would pay a great deal of money just to watch it. He then let his hand fall upon his round abdomen, his features softened when he felt the child inside him kicking tenderly.

“I think he agrees with you.” Thranduil commented placing the hand of the Queen on his stomach. Dís opened her eyes before grinning much like her brother had done.

“He is quite the kicker.” Dís commented taking her hand away.

“It’s strange, though. He wasn’t this active before.” Thranduil sighed turning around resuming his walk. “Come, Dís, we shall go to the kitchens and enjoy some brief elevenses before lunch is being served.”

“Elevenses? Please, tell me Bilbo hasn’t been messing around with the schedule of the meals.”

“Well, once I got in this state his ideas about the daily meals was quite entrancing to ignore it.” Thranduil replied to which Dís could only nod it was, after all, a very wise thought.

*****

Dinner time was another story though.

The table was once again filled with conversation and laughter, Fíli narrated his adventures with enthusiasm and a mouth filled with food. Thorin narrated with equal enthusiasm what it meant to have a pregnant elf in the halls of Erebor and Mirkwood.

“How did it go with the hunting today?” Thorin asked as soon as the desert was put in front of him, Thranduil glanced at his son noticing the sudden change in him.

“It didn’t go well.” Legolas played with his fork glancing around the table.

“Why? Did something happen?” Thorin inquired worriedly.

“Hn, we followed a group of spiders and some other creatures.” Legolas cut a piece of cake pursing his lips. “I’m not sure what kind of creatures they were but, they left marks leading us to the north-west part of the forest.”

Thranduil furrowed his brows placing his elbows on the table, Thorin took a bite of his cake while Fíli seemed pretty interested in the narration. Legolas tilted his head glancing at Thorin with his frown firmly in place.

“It was a trap. They were leading us to a trap.” Legolas finally said. “I wanted to follow but Feren stopped me.”

“A wise take of action, Legolas.” Thranduil spoke sternly. “We don’t know what kind of trap they have prepare for you.”

“But, we could have hunted them! We could have at least know which way the went.” Legolas shook his head leaning back against his chair.

“You could have been hurt or worse.” Thorin said softly. “Feren was right to stop you.”

Legolas made a face returning his attention to the cake, “I want to continue the hunt tomorrow. I know we’re not going back to Erebor yet, we still have three days before the journey back.”

“Then, I will go with you.” Thorin proclaimed firmly, Legolas opened his mouth to protest but he was silence by a single look of the dwarf.

“I won’t let you go alone, Legolas. It doesn’t matter how good of a warrior you are. You won’t be alone there, not if I can help it.” Thorin said firmly.

Thranduil hid his smile behind his cup while Dís merely shook his head, Legolas wouldn’t say anything, he would even looked defiantly and a little upset by the turn of events; but deep inside his heart, he felt happy. Ever since they had shared that conversation back in Erebor their relationship had deepened, Thorin had become protective and gentle when around him, always ready to spend some time with the young elf doing everything and nothing depending on what they feel like doing. It was in moments like this when Legolas could forget Thorin was not his father, it was in moments like this he could pretend the Dwarven-King was his other parent.

“Fine, you may come with us. But I will lead the search party.” Legolas replied firmly straightened up to glance over at Thranduil then at Thorin.

“Fine, you will be the leader of the group.” Thorin gave in taking a sip from his drink. “You’re just as bossy as you father, you know that, right?”

Legolas smiled in triumph resuming his eating of the cake, the rest of the meal went on light conversation and the plans for the coming trip they would do to go back to Erebor. It had been decided, after a heated discussion and a bet involving some childish game, that the baby would be born in Erebor; Thranduil had acceded as long as he got to decide the name of the baby and the healers from Mirkwood would attend the delivering. Thranduil observed as Thorin explained to his sister how he and Legolas had been working around on the nursery back in Erebor and were making plans on building an even greater one here on Mirkwood.

Thranduil was listening with care, his fingertips grabbing the fork without any real hold his appetite diminishing while his free hand positioned around his abdomen. He concealed his face so as to not damp in the happy mood around the table, though he did glance down to his abdomen wondering why he suddenly felt sick and discomfort all of a sudden.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Thorin stood at the outskirts of the forest, his eyes took in the empty land spreading before his feet leading to forgotten paths and unknown dangers. The Dwarven-King frowned deeply centering his attention to the bodies of innocent, wild, free animals spread alongside the terrain after someone enjoyed their meat before tearing away their bodies. The sun of the morning projected the shadows of the warriors burning the naked skin, Legolas pursed his lips looking beyond the horizon without any luck of finding his prey.

“They left.” He mumbled annoyed.

“But, they were waiting for us.” Thorin shook his head wiping away the thin layer of sweat from his forehead. He then turned to Feren who was standing right beside them. “What can you tell me about the Fortress?”

“Nothing that you don’t know already, my Liege.” Feren said gravelly while Thorin directed his eyes to the direction where the Fortress was located. “The Fortress has been inactive since the Battle of the Five Armies, every once in a while Mithrandir comes to make sure there isn’t a spell of concealment around it.”

Thorin nodded briefly looking around before setting his eyes on Legolas, “They were planning on surprised you and the others. Sooner or later, but now it seemed as if they left in a hurry, why?”

“I don’t like this.” Legolas declared. “We should have followed them yesterday.”

“There is no reason to regret past decisions, Legolas.” Thorin gave the young elf a sympathetic glance. “For now, I want everyone to be on high alert. Double the guards and inform me or Legolas of anything unusual.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Feren bowed glancing at the elf closest to him, the young elf nodded turning around and leaving to comply with the orders.

Legolas looked over at Thorin then at Feren, “So, now what are we going to do?”

Thorin fixed the straps of his sword and axe, he put his bag to the left side before cleaning up more sweat from his face. The sun was burning in the early hours of the day, he turned around to see the land outside his home before nodding towards there.

“Now, we will follow his tracks to the river down the road. Let’s see if we can find something else.”

As soon as Thorin said this, Feren glanced around the group signaling with a single gesture for everyone to form a secure group around the King and the Prince. The day was growing old by the time they reached the river, Legolas stood on top of a rock overlooking the great cliff where the rapids hit the stone traveling down the lands to join the sea beyond the mountains. The air in here was a mixture of winter and summer, the weather was contradictory as much as the way the canon had been made by time. Thorin leaned forward watching the grey water, he furrowed his brows shaking his head before sitting down.

Legolas sighed shaking his head before following the example of the dwarf, soon the group was sitting around enjoying the freshness of the shadow and the sound of moving water.

“This is it, then.” Legolas finally broke the silence. “A fake track.”

“It seems that way, my Prince.” Feren started passing around the lunch, light conversation soon started amongst some of the elves while Feren, Thorin and Legolas enjoyed their meal in silence.

“You are right, Legolas. This is quite worrisome, but there is nothing we can do today, or tomorrow. So, stop worrying.” Thorin finally said offering a light smile to his adoptive son, Legolas looked away shrugging.

“How did you know I was thinking that?” The young elf finally said.

Thorin laughed gently shaking his head, “You do this thing with your eyes and nose, the same way your father does when he is thinking stubbornly about something he cannot fix.”

Legolas huffed putting some bread on his mouth, Feren seemed to contemplate the dwarf’s comment before snorting in laughter. Thorin smirked taking a sip from his water bottle, his eyes lifting to the clear sky above their heads, he was suddenly reminded of Thranduil with his clear, blue eyes and the warmness he usually brought to his heart. The dwarf grabbed another piece of bread wanting nothing more than to be beside his lover, his soul already feeling cold before the absence of the elf.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

The fresh water touched his skin refreshing the burning marks of the sun on his skin.

He closed his eyes in pure bliss while the sweat and the grim of the wilderness wash away from his skin, he felt the water bringing a more cooling temperature to his body while his nostrils filled with the sweet aroma of flowers and healing herbs. He thought the moment would be perfect if he could taste the refreshing sweetness of ale and some warm meal, he leaned back resting his head against the trunk surrounding the bath his body tingling pleasurably. The Dwarven-King smirked, he didn’t need to open his eyes to know who was watching him for he could feel it deep inside his soul.

“You look extremely happy in there, King Thorin.” The voice was deep and soft, it held a wicked invitation in there with just the right amount of command behind it.

Thorin couldn’t help but shiver, he didn’t open his eyes rather enjoying the working of his imagination as to what his King was doing. Thorin smiled with his ears twitching when he caught the sound of soft footsteps, he could tell Thranduil was not wearing any shoes and his length stirred in interested at the thought of his lover being naked.

“I see your wicked mind is already working in there, King Thorin.” Thranduil laced his voice with desire.

“It is impossible not to do so when all I can hear and feel is you, O Elven-King. I’m but a prisoner in your forest, waiting for you to give yourself to me.” Thorin smirked tilting his head when he heard the soft laughter of his lover.

“Oh, you believe yourself such a desirable creature, dwarf?”

“I know I am a desirable creature, elf. Were you not begging for my touch a few moons ago?” Thorin stirred slightly trying to hear Thranduil but, all of a sudden he stopped sensing or hearing the elf. He waited and waited but nothing happened, he was about to open his eyes when firm hands placed themselves on his chest while teasing lips tasted his skin.

“And, I will beg many moons more for I cannot bear the thought of being away from you.” Thorin opened his eyes to see Thranduil right in front of him, the elf was just as naked as him standing a few feet away so his stomach would not collide with Thorin’s chest.

“See? I knew you would fall for my charm, _Amrâl_.” Thranduil snickered turning around so he was pressing his back against the dwarf, Thorin wrapped his arms around the elf biting down a moan when the elf’s rear rubbed deliciously against his hardened member. Thorin placed his hands on the round abdomen of his lover breathing in the sweet aroma of his elf.

“I miss you today, how was the mission?”

“It went well.” Thorin rested his chin on the elf’s shoulder his fingertips making loving figures on the elf’s abdomen. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are? How happy it makes me to see you like this?”

Thranduil rolled his head leaning back, closing his eyes, “Several times, but you can continue, it never gets old.”

Thorin chuckled kissing the elf’s cheek, “Is there any reason you decided to join me?”

“We could sense you were distressed.” Thranduil replied leaning back until he was resting against Thorin.

“I want to feel him again, can I?” Thorin sounded like a child, with his eyes gleaming pleadingly at his lover.

He allowed his calloused fingertips to caress around the pregnant abdomen of the elf. Thorin sighed enjoying the feeling of Thranduil’s skin under his touch, his heart was hammering with strength against his chest as he wait for an answer.

“I don’t think it works quite this way, Meleth-nîn.” Thranduil responded smiling, he tilted his head so he could see the dwarf. “He is the one who decides when to kick and when not to do it.”

Thorin rolled his eyes shaking his head, “No, you don’t understand, I want to feel him or her again. I want to feel the connection.”

The dwarf could see comprehension drawing on the elf’s face, Thranduil placed his hands on top of Thorin’s ones putting himself closer against the dwarf.

“Close your eyes, Meleth-nîn, let me guide you.”

Thranduil felt his lips curling up when Thorin closed his eyes snuggling protectively around the elf. This wasn’t the first time Thorin made such a request, ever since he knew it was possible to sense and to feel his child he had become addicted to those moments in which he was capable of feeling his connection to the elf and the child growing inside him. He would have continued with this if it hadn’t been for the conversation he held with Glorfindel and Galion where they told him this was highly dangerous and exhausting for the Elven-King. Thorin had felt guilty at that time, until Thranduil had convinced him he did it because there was nothing more beautiful and meaningful for him than sharing those moments with him. Still, Thorin tried to ask for this if he could prevent it.

In no more than a few seconds, Thorin felt it.

It was much as the very first time in which his soul joined with Thranduil’s one, his body heated up pleasantly feeling the elf in every fiber of his body. His dominant nature took over getting a loving hold on Thranduil’s nature while the elf guided him slowly to their destination. Thorin smiled letting out a soft sigh when he sensed the green and blue presence of the child, his heart was beating hard against his chest with his mind growing impatient. His fingers danced around the round stomach, distracted by the experience he never noticed Thranduil opened his eyes with the corner of his mouth tensing slightly.

Thranduil breathed hard while he tried to link away the sudden pain he felt, he dropped his hands bending forward with his lips opening to let out a moan of pain. Thorin opened his eyes in alarm, taking Thranduil in his arms while turning him around so they were facing one another.

“Amrâl? Are you all right? Is everything fine? Is it the baby? Was it me?” Thorin asked in one single breath never letting go of the elf in his arms, Thranduil smiled weakly shaking his head while the sudden pain he felt receded.

“Nothing, it was nothing.” Thranduil tried to move away from the hold Thorin had on him but the dwarf shook his head still concern.

“It was something, should I get the healer?”

Thranduil leaned in capturing Thorin’s lips with his, they kissed slowly tenderly with Thranduil pressing closer to the dwarf. Thorin fluttered his eyes open shaking his head, his forehead pressed tenderly against Thranduil’s one.

“I just need some rest, this was nothing I promise you.”

Thorin pursed his lips feeling concern, he eyed the elf in his arms noticing the tired expression on his face but, otherwise, he was looking as beautiful as always.

“Then, let’s go and rest, Amrâl.”

Thranduil fell asleep as soon as he touched the pillow, Thorin was on his back with one of the elf’s arms wrapped tightly around him.  The Dwarven-King glanced at the elf out of the corner of his eyes with a concern stare, he didn’t like the sudden reaction Thranduil had back in the bathroom but there was nothing they could do that night. Thorin put his arm around Thranduil until the elf was practically on top of him, cuddling as close as their height and his abdomen allowed it; Thorin gave Thranduil a kiss on his head promising to seek the healer as soon as the light of dawn reached their room.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

The morning arrived but the meeting with the healer never happened.  The preparations for the return trip to Erebor took their time and attention as soon as they finally woke up, soon Thorin seemed to forget the discomfort Thranduil felt the night before when all he could see in the morning was his bright smile and energetic spirit. A part of Thorin was still concern, but there was another part merely content to see Thranduil smiling and not as tired as he was the night before, the elf was smiling chatting or ordering around making sure nothing would be forgotten in Mirkwood.

Since this was the first time Fíli was for so long in Mirkwood, Thorin took him on a short visit to the Woodland Realm with Legolas by their side. The young dwarf was admiring the esthetics of the Woodland Realm while catching the attention of the wood elves, they spend most of their day visiting all the important places in the Kingdom while explaining to Fíli  how some of the elven marvels work. By the time mid-day had arrived and lunch was being set, Dís and Thranduil were sitting down under the shadow of a willow tree in the training grounds.

Thranduil leaned back against his chair, he enjoyed the freshness the shadow of the tree brought to his skin, Dís leaned forward grabbing another grape while drinking some more juice her eyes finding the training grounds where she could see Fíli sitting beside his uncle.  With his back against the chair, Thranduil followed the lethal movements of his son on the training grounds, the young elf was engaged with Feren and Glorfindel in an intense session in which both elves were pushing Legolas to the limit. The Elven-King sighed contentedly rubbing his abdomen while enjoying the moment, his eyes gleaming satisfactory when Legolas pushed himself to the limit until he was disarming Glorfindel and Fíli was cheering from afar.

“How long before you conceived?” Dís question caught Thranduil by surprise, the elf blinked a couple of times with his hand still rubbing circles on his abdomen.

“The healers will start the process of conception once we get to Erebor.” Thranduil explained gently, his eyes lowered slightly to see the round form of his stomach. “The baby will be born there, though he is more than ready to come to this world.”

Dís grinned with her eyes moving from the round abdomen to the elf’s face, she was always surprised to see him gleaming in the light. It was true the elf looked even more fair and ethereal when in this state, and she could see why Thorin seemed overly protective of his husband. While Dís new the strength that was hidden in the slender form of the Elven-King, she also could see the fragility of his persona at the moment.

“I thought this trip could be dangerous for you.” Dís commented with just a hint of concern behind her eyes.

Thranduil inclined his head, his eyes flickering to Legolas and then to Thorin and Fíli, the elf remained impassive though his hand did press closer to his abdomen when another wave of pain shoot through him.

“It won’t be easy but _Suldal_ will be taking me there.” Thranduil cocked his head until his blue eyes found the form of the Dwarven-King, the little bundle of life inside him kicked for attention while Thranduil felt another wave of strange pain. “I know Thorin want for the baby to be born in Erebor, I couldn’t say no to him when he asked.”

Dís rolled her eyes thought she was admiring the elf and her brother with loving eyes, “You two are really the worst. I’m glad you give him this to him but, still I hope you are sure this is safe. I wouldn’t want for anything to happen to you or the baby.”

Thranduil chuckled shaking his head, he lifted his left arm to grab the cup of juice he had right beside him. For a moment, his hand trembled and Dís caught sight of this furrowing her brows she went to speak but soon she realized Thranduil seemed to be glancing lovingly at his abdomen. The Queen of Ered Luin narrowed her eyes before setting back on her chair.

“Do not worry, if I thought this trip was dangerous I wouldn’t have agreed to go.”

“I’m not sure, you know? You and my brother seem to be in that stage in which you will give the world to one another no questions asked.” Dís shook her head when her brother waved towards them. “At least, now I think about the consequences.”

“Right, you are the most mature of the three of us.” Thranduil replied rolling his eyes in amusement.

The sound of laughter and metal hitting metal called their attention back to the training grounds, in there Legolas and Fíli were engaged in a fight. Fíli was still clumsy grabbing a sword that was looking more like a knife beside the one Legolas was holding, both Princes crashed their swords with Legolas instructing the young dwarf while teaching him new movements.

“Have you chosen a name?”

Dís raised a brow when Thranduil looked away slightly flustered, the Elven-King distracted himself with the glass of juice he had on his hand. He lifted his stare to see the table had been filled with food which mean Thorin, his son and Fíli would soon join them.

“I have.” Thranduil finally answered with his free hand pressing tenderly on his abdomen.

“Oh, really? Can you tell me or is it going to be a secret?” Dís leaned forward curiously, Thranduil smirked at her shaking his head.

“It is a secret.” The Elven-King leaned back returning his attention to his husband. “I thought about it for a very long time, and I have come to the conclusion there are only two names I want our first born to wear if he is a boy or a girl.”

“Does Thorin know?”

“No, of course not.” Thranduil chuckled when Dís laughed.

“You really must have him on a tight leash for him to not put up a fight.”

Thranduil laughed with Dís joining him, the truth of such a statement was the more evident when Thorin came to them, his eyes shifting confusedly from his sister then to his husband. The King furrowed his brows before shrugging, he leaned in placing a tender kiss on Thranduil’s lips while his hands placed themselves around the round abdomen.

“How are my two favorite people in the word?” Thorin knelt down placing a kiss on Thranduil’s abdomen, the Dwarven-King smirked satisfied when he saw the red tingeing the elf’s face. “Are you going to tell me if your dad and aunt were talking about me?”

The baby tapped softly against Thranduil and soon Thorin was chuckling, Thranduil placed his hand on top of Thorin’s one.

“Traitor.” Thranduil mumbled with affection, his eyes gleaming with pure love when he turned to Thorin who was staring right back at him.

“So, what were you two talking about me?” Thorin asked still kneeling in front of Thranduil, the Elven-King turned to Dís who was looking with tenderness the scene.

“Nothing in particular.” Thranduil replied, Thorn stood up putting a chair close so he could sit right beside his husband.

“Thranduil was telling me how he usually gets what he wants from you.” Dís said smirking at her brother.

“Yes, well…he is a spoiled brat, it is kind of hard to say no to him.” Thranduil rolled his eyes but he couldn’t hide the smile adorning his lips. “Though, I love him too much to say no to him or to not give him whatever he wants.”

Dís made a face rolling her eyes, she leaned in to put some food on her plate while Thorin and Thranduil kissed under the shadow of the tree. The Queen of Ered Luin couldn’t be happier with how things had turned out to be, there was a moment I time in which she thought her brother would really be in a dark, bitter place wishing but n ever achieving love. He was now a different person, his walls had lowered considerably and there was only happiness reflecting on his eyes; the queen leaned back giving them the private moment they were seeking in the midst of lunch time.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

The night arrived early that day.

The wind became a mixture of coldness and warmness announcing the oncoming change of season in the world, the light of the sky became brighter with a silvery texture touching the earth and providing guidance to the inhabitants of the wood.

The lights of the city of the elves brought magic into the atmosphere, the Woodland Realm filled with music and laughter, with many conversations in Sindarin and Khuzdûl. The forest was enjoying the last night their Kings would share with them, the good-byes soon became a great feast that went way into the night with blessings and words of courage and congratulations on their mouths. They all knew the next time their Kings returned to the forest it would be with a young heir in their arms, a little heir that would be the symbol of the Kingdoms of elves and dwarves.

Thranduil resisted his tiredness for as long as he could but, in the end, the events of the day and his own state made him retreated discreetly to his room. Legolas stood with him, the young elf held his father with care helping him out after noticing the sudden discomfort he was feeling but trying to hide. Legolas had been a constant shadow for his father, he was always there making sure Thranduil was doing fine whenever Thorin couldn’t be here; the young Prince placed his hand on his father’s back furrowing his brows in concern. Thranduil lips curled up accepting the elf’s help, their footsteps resounded in the empty halls leading to the Royal rooms Thranduil didn’t want to say anything but he wasn’t feeling fine. Of course, he was just thinking he needed rest, the time for the baby to be born was getting closer and as time passed the baby demanded more and more energy from him.

“Ada, you don’t look well. Are you all right? Should I bring the healer? Thorin?” Legolas warmed up when his father glanced at him with affection in his eyes, the hand of his father placed itself on his cheek while the King shook his head.

“Ion-nîn, you are worrying without need.” He stated entering his room, Legolas followed him closing the doors behind them. “I just need rest, your little brother or sister is just as exhausted as I am.”

Legolas nodded curtly stepping forward to open some of the windows in the room before lowering the intensity of the fire. He lit up some candles giving his father enough privacy to get change, by the time Legolas turned around Thranduil was trying to get into his bed. The young elf snorted shaking his head before going over to his father giving him a hand to hold onto.

“You should let me help, Ada.” Legolas helped his father on the bed, his eyes flickering down to the round abdomen of the King. Legolas opened his eyes in fear when his father grabbed his hand and placed it right on top of the abdomen.

“Someone wants to greet you.”

Thranduil broke into a content smile, his eyes observing with care the gentle façade of his son. Legolas tensed at first with his hand trembling trying to feel what his father was talking about until he felt the soft tap against his hand. The young elf opened his eyes glancing back at his father then at the abdomen.

“He is kicking!” Legolas felt it again when the baby tapped and tapped with energy. “He has a lot of energy. He is kicking just like Thorin.”

Thranduil snickered ruffling his son’s hair, “No, ion-nîn, he kicks just like you. You used to kick like this by the time you were ready to be born, whenever you were demanding attention or I thought…”

“You thought about my father.” Legolas finished when Thranduil trailed off, the Elven-King nodded. “So, is he demanding my attention or are you thinking about Thorin?”

“Both.” Thranduil replied without a hint of doubt on his voice. Legolas grinned happily rubbing his father’s abdomen before taking his hand away.

“I think you should rest but, I will stay here if you don’t mind.” Legolas stated standing up. “Tomorrow is going to be a very long day, everything is ready and set for our departure.”

“That’s good to know, I believe I will rest and I will love to have your company for a while.” Thranduil made a face with his hand grabbing his abdomen, his blue eyes found the concern façade of his son, he tried to smile but didn’t seem to have the energy to do it.

“Ada, are you sure you don’t want me to call Thorin?” Legolas inquired again, Thranduil shook his head lying back on the bed.

“No, don’t worry. This is just some discomfort because of the food, nothing to worry about.”

Legolas was hesitant but decided to not fight over this, he stepped back watching as his father close his eyes. The young Prince stood there for a moment before settling back on the chair near the fire, his eyes followed the flames patterns while his ears flickered trying to catch any abnormal sound that might come from his father’s bed.

By the time Thorin got to his room Thranduil was fast asleep, there was only one light flickering weakly on the impassive face of Legolas. The Elven-Prince lifted his head to stare at the newcomer, Thorin smiled at him closing the door behind himself stepping forward.

“Did I wake you up?” Thorin asked in a whisper, he stood beside Legolas placing a hand on the elf’s shoulder.

“No, I was awake watching over Ada.” Legolas moved on the chair facing Thorin, it was then Thorin realized Legolas was looking a little odd.

“Is everything all right?” Thorin finally asked with concern and affection in his voice, Legolas looked away still getting used to the fact Thorin spoke to him with parental love, it made the elf feel vulnerable but loved.

“He moved.” Legolas mumbled with his face breaking into a perplex expression. “The baby he…he moved.”

Thorin grinned squeezing the elf’s shoulder, “You feel him too, then.”

Thorin couldn’t hide his pride or love, if anything he was being open with his feelings his enthusiasm was contagious.

“I got to feel him too, just a few days ago. It felt…”

“Magical.” Legolas finished when Thorin was incapable of finding the right word, the dwarf nodded tilting his head to stare into Legolas eyes.

“Ada told me, he told me I used to do the same.” Legolas continued pursing his lips, Thorin opened his eyes in realization.

“That’s why you are so nostalgic.”

“I was just thoughtful.” Legolas replied weakly, he knew he could not trick Thorin with his emotions. “Really, I just was thinking about the whole thing and how father must have felt back then.”

“I just can wish I have been there.” Thorin replied with honesty.

“I know.” Legolas gave him a half-smile. “That would have been…well, things would have been different.”

Thorin nodded before placing his hand on top of Legolas head, “Are you sure you are all right?”

Legolas nodded, “Yes, I was really thoughtful, but good thoughts. I am to be a big brother, I was thinking there are a lot of responsibilities from my part.”

“Oh, yes, being a big brother is a hazardous and laborious work.” Thorin commented smiling. “Don’t tell Dís I said this.”

Legolas chuckled nodding, “I won’t.”

Thorin turned to Thranduil then back to Legolas, the young elf rolled his eyes standing up, “You can go over there but don’t wake him. That means no sex or anything like this, he needs rest because tomorrow is going to be a long trip.”

“I wasn’t thinking about sex.” Thorin crossed his arms indignantly. “Seriously, I’m going to let him rest. He was looking tired early this afternoon.”

“He was, he was also making faces…as if he was in pain.” Legolas lifted his hands before Thorin could protests. “Wait! If I have known it was something bad I would have called you and the healers. Don’t worry, I believe it is just because the time for the baby to be born is near.”

“Glorfindel mentioned something like this.” Thorin couldn’t help but feel his heart shrank with sympathy for his husband. “Go, you must rest as well. I will make sure he is fine and well rested.”

Legolas got to the door but stopped for a moment, he hesitated turning to see Thorin was looking back at him. The Elven-Prince pursed his lips opening his mouth before closing it again, only for him to open his mouth again.

“Were you nervous when you found out about Queen Dís and Prince Frerin?” The question caught Thorin by surprised, the Dwarven-King stood there with his eyes completely focused on Legolas who was feeling foolish for his question.

“It was a foolish question, I’m…”

“I was.” Thorin answered before Legolas could leave. “I was very nervous, I wasn’t sure I was going to do a good job.”

Legolas pursed his lips nodding, “I don’t think I can do a good job. I’m afraid there is still some ill feelings in me.”

“Those are normal, you know this.” Thorin softened slightly. “I know you will do well, my child it is very fortunate to have you as his or her brother, Legolas. Never doubt this.”

Legolas swallowed nodding, he stood there looking at the floor then back to Thorin who was still paying attention to him.

“You are going to be a great father, you know that, right?”

Thorin was left speechless Legolas smiled a little before leaving, the door closed behind him and Thorin was left alone with a wide awake Thranduil. Thorin shook his head taking off his robe and shirt, he untied his breeches while losing his shoes, his clothes were scattered on the floor he made his way to his husband climbing on the bed hovering above the Elven-King only to place a kiss on the elf’s forehead.

“Why were you pretending to be asleep?” Thorin inquired nuzzling the side of his husband’s face, his left hand holding him up while his right hand was drawing circles on the elf’s abdomen.

“I couldn’t help it… I don’t think I will never thank you enough for being this good to Legolas.” Thranduil placed his left and on Thorin’s arm, his lips curling slightly.

“I love him, you know this.”

“I do.” Thranduil answered with a sigh leaving his lips.

Thorin leaned in his heart beating fast when he felt the warm coming from Thranduil’s lips, he kissed with tenderness and love there was nothing lustful behind his kiss, just a need to feel his mate and show him his love. Thranduil sighed again feeling as the baby kicked him again, he smiled into the kiss soon missing the contact of the dwarf who was now centering his attention on his pregnant belly.

“Why haven’t you tried this before little _Nadan_?” Thorin whispered looking up at Thranduil then at the still tapping child.

“He only does it when he is ready to be born, not before this time. And, it is usually because he is calling for attention.” Thranduil explained brushing some wild strands of hair from Thorin’s face.

“Legolas told me he did the same.” Thorin commented, Thranduil smiled tenderly.

“Yes, he did.” Thranduil sighed with his hand still on Thorin’s head. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

Thorin blinked at those words, he crawled back to the head of the bed lying on his side of the bed with his legs slightly spread. He nodded to his husband patting his naked chest and the space in between his legs.

“Come over, I want to hold you.”

“My dear husband, you are overly romantic as of late.” Thranduil commented with amusement though he did move to rest in between the dwarf’s legs, his back resting against the chest of the dwarf, his head resting on the dwarf’s shoulder.

“I have always been romantic, _Amrâl._ It is you the one who has never shown any romance in my life.” Thranduil kissed the dwarf’s cheek chuckling.

“I love it when we spend moments like this.” Thranduil whispered rubbing his hands on top of Thorin’s ones, the both of them putting all their love and protection to the baby.

“Me too.” Thorin placed another kiss on the elf’s forehead, his fingertips tickling the pregnant belly of the elf. “I love holding you feeling the life growing in you.”

Thranduil closed his eyes snuggling closer to Thorin, “I think Legolas is right. You should rest, _Amrâl,_ you look tired.”

“It will be fine very soon, Meleth-nîn. This is nothing I cannot take with you and Legolas by my side.”

“Now, who is being romantic?” Thorin whispered chuckling. “Do you want to rest on the bed or…”

“No, I want to stay here. As long as you don’t mind I just…I feel better when you hold me.”

“Then, _Amrâl_ let me hold you and the baby. You can go to sleep while I watch over you.” Thorin wrapped his arms protectively around Thranduil, soon the Elven-King was sleeping peacefully with Thorin watching over him through the night.

* * *

* * *

* * *

The morning breeze felt fresh on their skins, the light of the sun sneaked around the leaves and the branches of the trees touching the green land of the roads leading to Erebor. The sounds of birds and squirrels accompanied them during most of the trip, silence had been a constant companion but at the moment Thranduil could hear Fíli speaking nonstop while riding right beside Legolas.

Thorin glanced around the road watching the craft of the dwarves and the elves that had built the road. He remembered the day he had to supervise the construction of the roads, the advices of his dwarves and elves regarding the magic protecting the Realm; the Dwarven-King had to hear some of the most absurd discussions between elves and dwarves before he had ordered them to work together. In the end, and after the discussions and the competitions regarding who was better building beautiful but secure things, the Elven Roads of the Woodland Realm were finished. It had been that day Thorin understood why Thranduil was so important as a King, the elf had taught Thorin how he would stretch his magic to protect the Realm, those who had not been invited or came in with ill intentions into the forest would get lost until madness and hunger would lead them into a trap.

Thorin glanced back at Thranduil who was riding his elk, his hand placed protectively around his abdomen. Even though he knew the roads of the Realm were safe, for some reason, Thorin felt restless. He glanced to the Captains of their personal guard to see them talking in low tones, Captain Farin was nodding while Glorfindel was looking to the left speaking only for the other Captain. The Dwarven-King turned his head watching Legolas smiling with his eyes on Fíli who was gesturing with his hands, right behind them was Dís who seemed to be just as enchanted as Legolas with her son’s talk.

“Is something the matter?” Thorin tensed turning to see Thranduil glancing at him, the Elven-King was still rubbing his abdomen distractedly but his eyes were looking with some worry in them.

“No, everything is fine.” Thorin replied smiling a little. “I was just remembering the time I had to supervise the building of the roads.”

Thranduil nodded chuckling, “Yes, I remembered. You threatened them to send them to Khand to work under the desert’s sun if they continued fighting like babies.”

Thorin looked away flustered shrugging, “They were driving me mad, you know? And, I wasn’t the only one sending threats, if I remember correctly, _Amrâl_ , you also threatened the workers of the mines to send them to the shores of Great Lake if they started another fight over who should lit the lanterns.”

Thranduil scoffed, “It was a ridiculous discussion.”

“True, it is good to know my people and yours can now work as one. From time to time.” Thorin replied smiling a little, the Dwarven-King tensed looking into the forest to his left but he saw nothing.

Thranduil narrowed his eyes at his husband, he could feel there was something worrying him but the elf could not pinpoint what could it be. He directed his stare to the forest but there was nothing there, Thranduil returned his attention to his abdomen caressing softly the round form before biting the inside of his cheek. He was feeling it again, a wave of pain around his abdomen moving to the rest of his body, at first he wasn’t sure how normal it was for him to feel pain then he realized this episodes could mean only one thing. The elf swallowed trying to take a deep breath to calm himself, his hand rubbing lightly on his abdomen while he focused all his energy on the baby.

Thorin took his hand to Orcrist, he pursed his lips furrowing his brows while centering his attention on the road. Everything was perfectly still, the wind kept on blowing, the leaves kept on dancing around and the sun was still providing with day light. The light conversation coming from his nephew was still filling the emptiness and the silence during the trip, and their footsteps could be heard above his voice. Nothing was out of place.

“What is this?” One of the dwarven soldiers asked out loud grabbing something that had entangled itself on his shoulder.

Thorin opened his eyes wide when a huge shadow fell upon the dwarf.

Thranduil took his hand to his back only to remember he had not taken his weapons with him, his hand placed itself on his elk’s neck calming him down while a group of giant spiders fell upon them. Thorin dismounted _Stardust_ screaming in Khuzdûl, Legolas put is bow and arrow as fast as he could shooting arrows left and right while Dís grabbed the axe on her mount and started fighting her own opponents.

Glorfindel spun around with his sword gleaming dangerously, Captain Farin lowered his head raising his left hand with strength until his axe came into contact with one of the spiders head.  The attack caught the company by surprised but they were fast in their response, the rest of the elves and the dwarves were soon forming a protective circle around Fíli and Thranduil, the sound of metal hitting heavy bodies filled the forest with screams of battle coming from the company and chilling sounds of dead coming from the spiders.

Thranduil winced grabbing his abdomen, his eyes caught those of his healer who was soon standing right beside him. The elf took a glance at his King shaking his head angered, his hands grabbed the curve form of the bow with his arrow finding home in the head of another spider.

“My Liege…”

“Not now…just…kept shooting.” Thranduil replied through greeted teeth.

Fíli grabbed his sword trembling slightly while his eyes moved left and right catching the sight of his uncle, his mother and Legolas engaged in different fights. Perhaps it was because he was paying attention to the world around them he was the first one to notice them; the spiders while numerous were being defeated one by one without so much trouble, some of them had already backed down. Still, Fíli opened his eyes when he recognized the form of goblins of the mountains, he looked around only to see uncle Thranduil had his eyes closed and his arms around his abdomen, one of the elves was beside him with his hand gleaming slightly. Fíli understood, even at his young age something was happening and he needed to do something. With a trembling hand he grabbed his sword and stepped forward, the goblin came out of the forest with some of his companions bringing more disorder to the company.

Fíli opened his eyes lifting his trembling hand with his sword, he planted his feet on the ground swallowing down his fears while looking with defiance at the goblin. The creature chuckled darkly stepping forward with his maze coming closer to the dwarf, Fíli knelt down lifting his hand again smiling when the goblin yelped in pain. He turned around and felt an indescribable pain on his head, he fell to the ground his sword sliding away; he opened his eyes watching all around him in a blurry. The goblin smiled maliciously at him ready to give the final strike but a couple of black arrows went through his head and chest, Fíli blinked confusedly and the last thing he saw before falling into unconsciousness was the worrying form of Legolas above him.

Thorin kicked one of the goblins on his face, Orcrist sang into the air slashing down the goblin with a single strike. He spun around beheading another one while parrying an attack coming from his left, the Dwarven-King was concentrated on the fight until a sharp pain on his abdomen made him falter. The goblin he was engaging in battle stepped forward with his shield colliding with the King’s face, Thorin growled trying to gain his senses back while evading the erratic attacks from the goblin.

“Thorin!” Glorfindel ended the live of the goblin with a single trusts, the elf caught Thorin looking him over before turning around to the battle scene. Captain Farin was finishing off one of the goblins while the rest of the elves and dwarves were evaluating the damage.

Thorin groaned grabbing his abdomen, his eyes sought the elk while blood came from his nose. Glorfindel helped the King up looking over the damage, Thorin waved away the elf looking around until he found the elk and Thranduil who was now bend over the mount.

“Thranduil.” Thorin gasped stepping forward making his way to the elk, he placed his hand on the elf’s leg looking at the healer who was frowning.

“What is it? What happened? Did they hurt you?” Thorin asked though his voice was coming strangled, Thranduil opened his eyes only for him to glance concern to the dwarf.

“Your face…”

“It’s fine. You, I’m worried about you, _Amrâl._ ”

“My King, we need to go back, King Thranduil won’t be able to complete the trip. Your child needs to be born now.” The healer stated to the dwarf, Thorin felt dizzy glancing up at Thranduil who was focusing his attention on him.

“You don’t look well, Thorin.” Thranduil took a deep breath still trying to calm the restless baby in him.

“I’m fine, _Amrâl.”_ Thorin caressed the calf of his lover turning to the healer. “Let’s go back. Bronidîr, took your horse and get everything ready. Egnasson, I want you to call for the hunters get this place clean and start looking for more of these creatures. I want at least one of the goblins alive so we can interrogate them.”

Both elves bowed before leaving the place, Thorin felt his heart beating fast while the pain his lover was feeling stretched through his body and heart. He wanted nothing more than to ease his lover’s angst, his pain but he felt impotent before this.

“We’re going back. Thranduil, can you ride or do you need me to help you?”

Thranduil gave his lover a half-smile, he mumbled in elvish and _Suldal_ huffed turning around slowly. Thorin shook his head pursing his lips.

“ _Suldal,_ you better take care of him or I’m going to offer you in a feast.” The King threatened, the elk huffed again making sure he pushed the Dwarven-King to the side as he started turning back.

Glorfindel glanced at the dwarf then at his friend, Legolas was carrying Fíli in his arms with Dís standing beside them. They had taken a great hit and the Captain of the Elven guard was furious about this. Thorin called in _Stardust_ wishing more than ever they could ride back to the Realm as fast as their mounts would take them.

“Cîldîr, are sure it is safe for him to be on that beast?” Thorin asked to the healer who was still glancing at the Elven-King.

“Do not worry, my Liege, _Suldal_ will be careful.”

“How bad is it?” Thorin asked when he was sure Thranduil was out of earshot.

Cîrdîl shook his head, “It is hard to say, my Liege. This fight brought great stress into the King’s persona, his fëa was erratic and the pain in him is growing. I’m afraid I won’t know how difficult the delivery is going to get until we have started.”

Thorin nodded gravely looking down at the blood falling on _Stardust’s_ mane, he cleaned it up with his mind getting fuzzy in the midst of his worry. He glanced at the other healer who was attending Fíli while speaking to Dís, Legolas had let go of Fíli and was walking right behind the group.

“My Lord, perhaps, while we go back I may have a look at your face?” The healer inquired softly, Thorin shook his head.

“I don’t want you far from Thranduil. Go, make sure he is not suffering and make sure he is fine.”

It was an order, an order the healer could not ignore. Cîrdîl glanced at Glorfindel who gestured to him he would take care of the King, with a bowed the healer turned around running towards his King who was already far ahead of them with a group of dwarves and elves protectively around him.

“He is going to be fine.” Glorfindel said to Thorin.

“How do you know?” Thorin asked with his voice weak, his eyes never leaving the form of the elf. “I can sense it, I can feel how stress he is. I can share his pain and he is…”

“He is Thranduil, Thorin.” Glorfindel declared placing a hand on the dwarf’s one. “He has you and Legolas and the baby. He is going to be fine. Now, let me clean you up and heal this, we don’t want Thranduil to keep worrying about you.”

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

When they returned everything had been set to receive the Elven-King.

The gates of the city were heavily guarded with Galion at the head of the healers who welcomed the King, Feren stood by his side with two of his best hunters ready to go into the forest. Thorin got in barking orders left and right while Glorfindel and Legolas helped Thranduil down his elk, Cîrdîl gave some instructions to the healers coming their way, two of them went directly to the young Prince who was still unconscious on his war-goat.

“Queen Dís.” One of the healers bowed before kneeling down to check Fíli.

Dís nodded glancing in between her brother and her son, her heart breaking in two when she saw Thranduil being taken away. The Queen of Ered Luin returned her attention back to her son only to see the healer smiling softly.

“He is fine, it seems to be just a concussion.” The elf commented applying some ointment he had on a pouch on his waist. “He just needs rest. Still, I’m going to take him to the healing chambers where we can monitored him and give him something once he wakes up. His headache is going to be great once this happens.”

“Of course he is going to be fine. He has a big and hard head, just like his uncle and his father.” Dís said thought there was relief in her voice. “Do you want me to help you with him?”

“No, my Queen, no need to worry. You can come with us but I will instruct one of the apprentices to take him.”

No sooner had the healer said this two young apprentices came behind him, Dís observed as the younger one knelt down to pick Fíli up, Dís glanced out of the corner of her eyes at Legolas who was standing far from them watching closely before turning around and following King Thranduil.

“Queen Dís, is your son all right?” Cîldîr inquired following the queen down the hall leading to the healing chambers.

Dís noticed all the Kingdom was in high alert, she saw some of the dwarven and elven warriors marching around while the gates of the city closed down. Some of the inhabitants had been trying to get a glimpse of what was happening but the Royal palace had been shut down and was now heavily guarded.

“He seems to be fine.” Dís commented though her heart was still on her hand. “Thranduil and baby, how are they?”

Cîldîr hesitated for a moment before answering, “Not well, I stay behind precisely because I want to ask something of her Majesty.”

Dís tensed at his words, she looked around to see the great doors of the healing chambers open wide. The commotion inside was something she had never experience, not with elves and how they usually seemed so composed and organized.

“What is it? How bad are they?” Dís asked sharply letting the healer know she wanted all the truth.

“It is my believe King Thranduil has been feeling some discomfort for quite some time, today’s events just make it impossible for him to hold back any longer.” Cîldîr shook his head. “He seems pretty determine to have the baby in Erebor. Now, with this emergency he has broken all control and we are losing him slowly.”

“What do you need me for?”

“King Thorin is being erratic at the moment.” Cîldîr smiled sadly at the Queen. “And, I understand him, this is why I cannot have him with me and the rest of the healers inside the delivering room.”

“He could affect King Thranduil and it would make everything harder.” Dís turned to see Glorfindel approaching them with a grave expression on his face.

Cîldîr nodded, “Yes, Captain. You know how delicate the King is, more so in his state.”

“Thorin is not going to like this.” Dís said shaking her head.

“I know, Queen Dís. That’s why I would ask of you to speak with him and assure him you are going to be accompanying the King in this moment.”

“Me?” Dís asked with perplexity.

“Yes, even though King Thorin can’t go in, my King Thranduil will need some sort of connection with the father of the child. It would make things easier.” Cîldîr said with a hint of pledge in his voice, he really was not fancy having to tell King Thorin he couldn’t be in the room with Thranduil.

Dís observed as the healers took her son into an adjacent room, she followed them for a moment watching as Fíli was put to bed. The young healer that had carried him there went immediately to get a bowl of water and started cleaning the young face of the Prince. Another one came in to rub some more ointment while making sure the bruise on his head was covered; Dís felt her heart shrank at the sight of her baby being wounded, still she couldn’t help her pride when she heard it had been because he was trying to protect Thranduil and the rest of them he had gone to do something foolish. The Queen then turned around to see another door being closed and Thorin standing there growling and arguing, she sighed nodding to the healer and Glorfindel.

“Very well, let me speak with him and get everything ready, Healer Cîldîr, make sure Thranduil and the baby survive or I won’t be responsible for what Thorin may do.”

The healer winced and Glorfindel patted him on the back, both elves approached the King who was trying to get passed two female healers. Legolas was by his side ready to do something rash until the voice of Dís stopped him.

“What do you think you’re doing, Thorin?” Dís came in frowning deeply.

“My husband and my baby are in there.” Thorin replied standing his full height clenching his fists.

“They are, yes. And, they are in no good shape.” Dís said coldly, Thorin swallowed stepping forward but the queen stopped him. “Thorin, you must calm down or else you are going to make things worse.”

“Dís, move.” Thorin said firmly, Dís stepped forward placing her hand on Thorin’s shoulder.

“Thorin, Thranduil needs for you to calm down. He is not doing well and you are not good to him in this state.” Dís gave her brother a half-smile. “I’m going to go in, I’m going to make sure he is fine but, for me to let you in they will have to tell me your connection to Thranduil has been regulate and that you won’t make things worse for him.”

Thorin stopped for a moment, his face paled with his head twirling around. The Dwarven-King shook his head looking at Dís before turning his attention to the healer.

“What do you mean?” Thorin asked in a small voice, the mere thought he could be making things worse for Thranduil and the baby was making him feel bad. His heart was beating fast and he stepped back.

“You are stress, my Lord. And I understand this, but your connection with King Thranduil runs too deep for this to be any good while he is in the process of delivering.” Cîldîr said in a small voice.

Thorin shook his head clenching his fists in frustration, he stepped back shaking slightly. His mind was filled with horrible scenarios, while his heart ached to be closed to his mate. His instincts were telling him to tear everyone apart so they could not hold them apart while the more rational part of him told him he needed to be relaxed. He opened his mouth then closed it again, the door of the room they had taken Thranduil in opened and an ancient lady stepped out of the room.

“Healer Cîldîr, you better come in.” She said in a soft voice, her deep brown eyes moved to the King and Thorin was waiting for bad news to come from her. “King Thranduil is ready to give birth, my King Thorin, I will need you to be patient and wait for news in here.”

Thorin furrowed his brows, he stared at the elves then at Dís.

“Take care of him.” Thorin finally mumbled, Dís stepped forward placing a kiss on his brother’s forehead.

“I will. Please, go and see my little angel, he is in the room over there. I will come and see you with news.” Dís then turned around and followed the healers inside the room.

Thorin watched as the door closed behind his sister and then everything was silent again, the elves working in the healer chambers all returned to their works staring at the King and the Prince once in a while. Glorfindel turned his clear eyes to Thorin, he smiled in sympathy when he saw the King had some tears in his eyes. When the King turned his attention to Legolas he could see the young elf was shifting his stares from the door where his father was and the room where Prince Fíli was resting.

“Who was with him when Legolas was born?”

The question caught Glorfindel by surprise, the Captain of the Elven guard stared down at his King only to see Thorin was still centering his attention on the other room. Glorfindel lifted his eyes to see Legolas watching him.

“Me.” Glorfindel said. “He started with some pain and then I was being called in, he needed some support and Haldir couldn’t be there.”

Thorin nodded sharply, Glorfindel placed a hand on the dwarf’s shoulder.

“He is going to be fine.” Glorfindel looked up to see Legolas stepping closer to them.

“Ada really needs for you to calm down.” Legolas finally spoke and his voice was sounding weak, Thorin furrowed his brows turning his attention to Legolas who was looking shaky. “You seem to be really scared.”

“I’m not the only one.” Thorin replied glancing at Legolas then following the elf’s eyes, it soon became evident to Thorin Thranduil was not the only victim of the attack. He shook his head turning around. “Thank you.”

Legolas looked confused at the Dwarven-King, “Why?”

“For saving Fíli.” Thorin stated smiling weakly at the elf. “Glorfindel, who else was wounded in this attack?”

Glorfindel held back his smile when he heard the command behind Thorin’s tone, he was glad the King was regaining his senses little by little.

“Four more, King Thorin. They had been attended here as well though taken to different wings.” Glorfindel signaled the room with the door open. “Prince Fíli is in there, I believe he is asleep, it was a luck Prince Legolas was so closed to help him out.”

Legolas clenched his jaw looking away, “He was an idiot. He is but a child he should have screamed or done something instead of facing a goblin on his own.”

Thorin tilted his head with understanding drawing on his face, his eyes went from Legolas to the room Thranduil was in. He sighed lifting a hand to grab his head, for the first time he was feeling the pain of the hit he had received in the face; yet he was finally understanding why Legolas seemed so shaken and why he himself felt so guilty and so useless. Thorin let his eyes linger on the room where his husband and his baby were before he turned around making his way to the room Fíli was in.

“How is he?” Thorin asked to the healer who was tending him.

The young healer turned around sharply, his cheeks turning an interesting shade of red, “He is well, my King. He has a bruise on his head but not severe damage was done. He just needs rest.”

Thorin nodded staring at the healer then at his nephew, he could sense Legolas was behind him. The healer looked over at the Prince then at Thorin.

“I was applying some ointment for the bruise and cleaning up his face.” The healer explained before giving Fíli a tender stare. “He seems like a brave warrior, still he is far too young and fair to be wearing a mark of fighting.”

Thorin quirked a brow at such words, his amusement grew when he heard the soft growl coming from Legolas. The healer opened his eyes turning around to return his attention to the bowl filled with water.

“You don’t need to stay.” Legolas said coldly. “You can go now, I will take care of this.”

The healer nodded with just a hint of disappointment in his eyes, he left and Legolas followed him with his eyes. In mere seconds Legolas was cleaning up the young face of the dwarf still wearing a deep frown.

“I would never understand emotions.” Glorfindel commented to Thorin, the dwarf snorted sitting down.

“You just haven’t met the right one, then.” Thorin commented, Glorfindel furrowed his brows looking away.

“Perhaps.” He said and Thorin had to look at the elf when he caught a strange tone behind his tone.

Glorfindel waved his hand, “Yes, you are right. I haven’t met the right mate yet.”

“You don’t see convince, is there anyone we should know about?” Thorin inquired with a hint of curiosity in his voice.

Glorfindel lowered his gaze shaking his head, “I do not know and thus I will not say nothing on the matter.”

Thorin snorted, “I will tell Thranduil, you know? And then, you will have no choice but to reveal such a secret.”

Glorfindel smirked wiggling his brows, “It will take some time before he is ready to threaten me. Why so interested in my love life all of a sudden?”

“So, there is a love life there.” Thorin replied in triumph, Glorfindel chuckled shaking his head.

They went silent watching as Legolas put the bowl away and stood up, he turned around leaving the room for a moment. Thorin observed with some sympathy at his adoptive son, he could understand the confusion and the fear Legolas was experimenting. It was not easy to see someone you love in such a state, it was even more difficult when a part of you understood you could have lose him in a single moment of foolishness. Thorin put his elbows on his knees resting his face on his hands, his heart was still beating fast while his mind was trying to quiet down the terrible thoughts of desperation and dead.

Silence filled the healing chambers, Thorin closed his eyes trying to concentrate to see if he could feel anything. However, all he could sense was pain and fear, the dwarf opened his eyes breathing hard he stood up fast leaving the room to see the doors of Thranduil’s room still closed. The Dwarven-King stood there trembling, he crossed his arms looking everywhere but at the close door.

“Try to calm down.” Thorin turned to see Legolas resting against the closest wall, the young Prince smiled gently at him. “Close your eyes, take a deep breath and follow your connection with Ada. He is fine, but he needs you to be calm because the one who is scare and in pain is you, not him.”

Thorin was tempted to ask how Legolas knew until he remembered Legolas was as capable as him of sensing Thranduil. He nodded curtly taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes trusting everything was going to be fine. Little by little he felt himself being taken away from his body, his heart soon found the green threat he had come to recognized as Thranduil’s connection with him. He hesitated before brushing his own blue one against it, then he felt Thranduil and Thorin was complete again. The Dwarven-King smiled in relief trying to ease away his own pain and confusion, he grasped Thranduil’s life threat with his and, even though he wasn’t inside that room, Thorin knew without a glimpse of a doubt Thranduil could tell he was there.

*****

Thorin gasped startle out of his dream.

He almost fell of the chair only to see Dís smiling down at him, the Dwarven-King was confused for a moment until he understood what it meant for Dís to be there. He stood up rather fast blinking away his sleepy feeling.

“Thranduil…” He rasped out, Dís placed her hand on his forearm and Thorin could see she was tired but her smile told Thorin everything had gone well.

“Congratulations.” She mumbled engulfing her brother in a hug. Thorin felt his heart jumped in joy, his eyes went immediately to the room where some of the healers were still standing waiting for him. “Go, he wants to see you.”

Thorin swallowed holding back his emotions, he stepped forward trembling with his heart on his hand and his mind completely blank. The healers stepped aside and Cîldîr opened the door inclining his head.

“My King.” He greeted Thorin stepped forward standing before the open door, he hesitated for a moment tilting his head until his eyes fell upon the anxious form of Legolas.

"Legolas, come." The King invited the young Prince who was soon standing by his side, both of them entered the now darkened room closing the door behind them

The first thing they noticed was the smell of blood, for a brief moment Thorin felt fear returning to him until it was eased away by the soft whimpering of a tiny voice. He stepped forward noticing the bed was at the very center of the room protected by a thin curtain, candles had been placed around to give some light to the obscure room. Thorin stepped forward with his eyes on the regal form of his lover resting semi-seated on the bed, Legolas was following him close behind with his eyes staring curiously around.

Thranduil lifted his head blinking slowly with bags under his eyes, his chest had been left uncovered and on top of his naked chest was resting the small form of a baby. Pillows had been placed around the King to make his resting all the more comfortable and the room was clean, with no traces of the arduous work the healers had done to bring forward the new life resting now comfortably on his father’s arms. Thorin smiled with his body trembling with emotion, his eyes filled with tears when he saw the little baby wearing a thin, small robe on him resting on his stomach against Thranduil’s chest. The Dwarven-King stepped forward until he as standing on the right side of the bed, his hand trembling placed itself on top of Thranduil's one, his eyes taking in the form of his lover who still had a fresh scar on his abdomen.

“He has your hair.” Thranduil whispered placing his big hand protectively on the baby’s back.

“He?” Thorin asked weakly while leaning closer, he was glad he had cleaned himself up way before falling asleep on the chair. He was afraid to get any closer and still all he wanted to do was to grab Thranduil and the baby in his arms. Legolas leaned in to see the his brother, his eyes met Thranduil's eyes and the elf smiled gently. 

“He.” Thranduil declared the elf caressed his son’s back looking at him then back at Thorin. “Meet your _khagam_ , Kíli.”

Thorin sat right beside Thranduil, his eyes going wide when he heard the name. Thranduil picked the little child in his arms turning him around with care, the child creased his brows opening his mouth in protest, his fists clenched and whimpers leaving his mouth until he felt the warm of his father again.

“You named him Kíli.” Thorin stated watching the little mark of blood the baby had on his abdomen. The name had been written in Khuzdûl and it was an ancient ritual in which the blood of the mother was used to name the child as soon as he was born. Thorin lifted his hand, still trembling, before he brushed his fingertips against the cheek of his soon. The baby shifted slightly leaning closer into the touch.

"He is so small, and beautiful." Legolas commented getting closer, he lifted his hand with some apprehension swallowing down when a little hand closed around his finger. Thorin felt happy beyond measure, he placed his hand on his son before looking back at Thranduil.

“He is beautiful, Thranduil.” Thorin leaned in kissing the elf on his cheek. “You two are beautiful. I was so scared, I thought…”

Thorin let his forehead rested against Thranduil’s one, the elf nodded holding Kíli softly lifting his head to kiss Thorin’s lips.

“I know, I’m sorry.” Thranduil replied. “I should have told you about the pain, but…”

“Don’t, it is fine. You two are fine and that’s all that matters.”

Thorin then returned his attention to the baby, his eyes were still closed but Thorin could see his hair was already dark like his. There was much of the elf in the young lad, his features were round and full with a fairness he knew babies shouldn’t possess. His ears were as pointy as Thranduil’s but his appearance seemed smaller than what he thought an elf’s baby should be. Thorin placed a hand on his son’s head leaning in to place his forehead against his, the touch was made softly and with care and Thorin was reward with a pair huge, dark blue eyes.

“He has your eyes.” Thorin mumbled placing a kiss on his son, the baby scrunched up his nose when the beard scratch his skin.

Thranduil nodded glancing at him, “Yet, he looks a lot like you.”

“I love you.” Thorin whispered leaning in to kiss Thranduil.

The Elven-King sighed into the kiss, when they parted Kíli had his eyes wide open looking around while taking his little hand to his mouth. Thorin glanced at the baby, his eyes asking for permission, Thranduil shifted grabbing the baby with expertise.

“Put your arms forward.” Thorin did as told and his life was finally complete when Kíli was placed in his arms.

He didn’t need for Thranduil to instruct him this time, for the Dwarven-King closed his eyes and could feel little Kíli the way he had felt it inside his father’s belly. Now, this was all Kíli and the baby snuggled closer to Thorin closing his eyes with his little fists closing around one of the King’s braids. Thorin lifted his face to speak only to see Thranduil was fast asleep as well, his face softened slightly and Thorin sat there holding his son and looking over at his lover. Legolas watched from afar, his heart shrank with emotion. He was determined to stand in the shadows when Thorin locked eyes with him inviting him over to share the space beside him.

"Congratulations, Thorin." Legolas mumbled glancing at the baby.

"Here, Kíli. Meet your big brother." Thorin mumbled and Legolas leaned in to pressed his forehead against the little child's one much like Thorin had done moments ago.

"Hey there, little brother." Legolas mumbled only to see Kíli scrunching up his nose.

"Now our family is complete." Thorin mumbled lifting his face to look at Legolas who nodded.

Outside, in the Kingdom of Mirkwood celebrations had started. The news about the new Prince went fast through the Kingdom while some messengers had been sent to Erebor. Fireworks and music filled the halls of the Woodland Realm and the name of the new Prince was soon in the lips of everyone.

By the time morning arrived, Kíli’s name had been written on the records of both Kingdoms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kíli was born!!  
> I couldn't leave Kíli out of the story and, of course, he does look live the love child of Thorin and Thranduil so I decided to make it real. This chapter was particular hard to write because I didn't want it to sound force but I also want it to be emotional and filled with Thorinduil moments, I hope I made it. And I really hope you guys enjoy it.
> 
> Just two chapters left! Don't forget to comment and tell me what you think, also...if there is something you want to read about Kili's childhood I'm open to requests :D


	29. The Promise of the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is in the midst of changing seasons when Kíli is presented formally to the world, no one says anything but...the world was changing and the whispers in the air was just the first sign of the new world approaching them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there,
> 
> I want to thank you guys for everything you have done for me, for staying with me through this journey. This is the final official chapter of the story, the next one is an epilogue but I won't say more about it. I just want to thank all of you for this, again I apologize for English is not my mother tongue so I know there are some grammar, spelling and funny mistakes you may find in here. 
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy!

**Chapter 29**

**The Promise of the Future**

He breathed the magic in the air.

His clear eyes swept around the valley taking notice of the beauty coming from the gardens, the crafted stone surrounding the areas, the work around the roads and the magnificence of the valley stretching before his feet. He lifted his eyes to see Mirkwood standing in the distance like an emerald city gleaming under the sun of the Valar, tilting his head to the side he saw Ravenhill standing like an amethyst dark and dangerous, strong and erect in the defense of the valley and the Kingdoms of the Elves and Dwarves. When he faced the mountain, all he could see was a great beacon of light sharing in the future of two races that had been involved in a blood feud for far too long, a feud forgotten by the ones they now called Kings.

The black horse huffed approaching the guarded gates of the Dwarven Kingdom, the elf looked around to see people of all races, ages and genres coming in and out the city. Many of them were wearing the smiles of satisfied citizens while others were wearing tired expressions, the elf turned his head to see his companion following him closed behind with the same hooded-cloak protecting their faces. The sound of celebration came clear to their ears as they waited before the gates of Erebor, a great feast had been called and it seemed as if the mountain was preparing itself for a great celebration; it was not a surprise though, many had heard of the birth of the Prince who was now the symbol of peace and union. Thus, now inside the mountain, a great feast was being prepared in honor of the young Prince and as a way to present the baby to the world.

“It seems as is the whole world has come to meet the new Prince of the Dwarves and Elves of Rhovanion.” The elf tensed shaking his head when he heard the voice of his companion, both of them approached the gate only to see two guards crossing the spears right in front of the gate.

A small figured made his appearance with a long scroll on his hands, Lord Balin glanced down at the scroll on his hand before lifting his stare with a polite smile on his face.

“Welcome, my Elven Lords, to the Kingdom of Erebor.” Balin made a brief reverence looking from one hooded elf to the other. “May I know your names and intentions in the Kingdom of King Thorin and King Thranduil?”

“Master Balin, it is good to see you have followed into your father’s footsteps.” Balin tensed at this words, he narrowed his eyes trying to look beyond the shadows of the hood covering the face of the elf who had spoken to him with such a deep and commanding tone.

The black horse huffed again stepping forward with his head lifted in arrogance and impatience, “And, to answer your question, I have come to meet my grandson. My name I believe you know it already, unless I have been forgotten so easily.”

Balin opened his eyes wide in shock when the elves took off their hoods to reveal the golden locks of King Oropher and the silvery ones of Lord Celeborn. The Lord of Lothlórien curved his lips in amusement while dismounting his ride, his brother sat there for far longer before he too gave in deciding to enter the city on foot and not on horse.

“King Oropher!” Balin finally exclaimed and the guards at the gates took the spears away and bowed to the one who had been their King four years prior.

Two squares were called to help the elves with the horses while some guards came in to take care of their belongings,  Balin stared at Oropher who was centering all his attention to the interior of the mountain. Finally, the King shifted his stare until he was looking directly into Balin’s eyes, the dwarf Lord eyed him for a moment before speaking.

“My Lord Oropher, it is really good to see you back in Erebor. We were wondering if the news about the Kings and the Prince had reached you.” Balin commented indicating with a gesture of his hand the interior of the mountain.

The elves started walking right beside Balin who was still shaken by this sudden appearance. Oropher looked around having not come to Erebor for more than three years, last time he had been here the Kingdom was still shaking under the reign of an inexperienced King. Now, standing in the halls of the dwarves, Oropher could see much had changed. The stories of his forefathers had been written on the columns in the city, elves and dwarves lived together trading and speaking as if conflict between their races had never existed. The King was faced with a reality he never thought possible, when he cocked his head to stare at his brother he saw Celeborn admiring what his eyes were seeing with the glint of hope Oropher had always hated and loved in his kin.

“You really have not been out of the mountain if you are asking me this, Master Balin.” Oropher finally answered to the comment Balin had made early, Balin furrowed his brows in confusion and the former King continued speaking. “The whole world has heard the news of a new, powerful Lord being born with elven and dwarven blood on his veins. A Lord with Eldar and Naugrim blood and heritance in him.”

“Even Mordor has heard of him.” Celeborn finished gravely, Balin furrowed his brows paling before the cursed name of such a dark land.

“If these are the news you bring, then my Lords, you are very much welcome in Erebor.” Balin said. “For now, I believe I will take you to your rooms and wait until the time is right to speak of the news around the wide world.”

“Where is he? Where are my grandson and my son?” Oropher demanded tilting his head from left to right then centering his attention on Balin.

Balin scowled at this, his memory worked around the story Thranduil had revealed to them once when sharing some stories about Legolas and his childhood. The dwarf could not help but stare at the elf with some accusation and apprehension in his eyes.

“Resting, King Oropher.” Balin commented coldly. “The trip was extenuating on King Thranduil and the young Prince, thus they are resting at the moment. King Thorin is attending some state matters whereas Prince Legolas is preparing the presentation feast for tomorrow.”

Oropher clenched his jaw before the insolence of the answer, he was about to reply with fury when a calming hand closed around his forearm. When Oropher turned sharply to face the owner of the hand he found himself looking into the grey eyes of Celeborn. The elf Lord was smiling at him shaking his head, then Celeborn turned his attention to Balin bowing his head slightly.

“Thank you, Lord Balin. I believe I will take your guidance to our quarters for I have a mighty need for a warm bath, warm meal and some rest myself.”

Oropher narrowed his eyes at his brother, Balin nodded back and guided them through the great halls of the mountain down to the Royal Palace until they reached the farthest wing from the royal rooms. Oropher opened his mouth to protest once they were in their room only to have Celeborn shaking his head.

“Do you remember you took Legolas from Thranduil no moments after he have been born, don’t you?” Celeborn asked.

Oropher tensed looking away in regret and shame, “What I did, I did it because I thought I was doing right by my son, my grandson and my people.”

“Lord Balin is doing what it is best for his Kings and friends.” Celeborn retorted, then he softened slightly when he realized his brother was really regretful for what had happened in the past. “He is just protecting Thranduil. Don’t worry, we will see them tomorrow.”

“I am King.”

“Was.” Celeborn remained him, Oropher ignored him with a wave of his hand.

“I am the King’s father.” Oropher continued, Celeborn sat down rolling his eyes.

He watched as Oropher mumbled and argued alone in the room, his eyes following his brother while his heart ached for home. He missed the sweet presence of his wife, her soft caress and her clear laughter; Celeborn sighed in sadness longing to be back in his forest. The Lord of Lothlórien knew, however, for now it was impossible for him to go back he had a duty with his brother and with Arda. A duty they had come to accomplish in Erebor.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Thranduil sighed contentedly into the kiss, his hands tangled around dark locks of hair while his soul was soothed with the loving caress of his mate.

The Elven-King nibbled on the lower lip of his mate, his eyes already close giving into the different emotions running rampage in his chest. He swallowed down his hungry moans when the thick-skinned fingertips of Thorin brushed against the still fresh wound on his abdomen; more than pain the touch of the dwarf brought pleasure beyond measure, Thranduil saw white light in his eyes when Thorin caressed the sensitive skin around the wound.

“Thorin…” Thranduil whispered when his mouth was freed and his neck was the next victim of the ravenous mouth of the dwarf.

For far too long they had denied a moment like this one, Thranduil had been willing to be with Thorin but the dwarf would not dare to hurt him or to start such an act off intimacy and love until he was sure Thranduil was well.  It was as if being pregnant had taken away all desire for the dwarf and this was frustrating Thranduil greatly; today he had the chance to show Thorin he was no fair maiden to be touch like crystal or thin ice, today Thranduil was trying to say with his body while he could not voice gently with his mouth: that he needed for Thorin to make love to him.

Thorin growled low in his throat and Thranduil shivered when sharp teeth closed around his neck, the dwarf worked his mouth around the pulse point of the elf, his hand still drawing circles and caressing the proof of Thranduil’s capacity to bear a child. Thranduil sighed with his left hand rubbing down to squeeze one of Thorin’s butt cheeks, the dwarf growled again bucking his hips forward. Thranduil tilted his head rubbing his face on the dwarf’s beard. Things were going as planned, Thranduil was already losing his ability to think and he was enhancing his ability to feel when a soft whimper and a whinny cry broke the spell both Kings had been in.

Thranduil tensed while Thorin jumped out of his arms standing up right beside the bed, the Dwarven-King had his eyes wide open looking at the crib at the other side of the room. His cheeks were warm with arousal and shame, he swallowed trying to get his desires under control while his shaft strained against his breeches. Thranduil laid on the bed with his hair sprawl under him, his robe and breeches open showing the white skin of his body and his already hardened member; Thorin groaned shaking his head when Kíli started crying again. He turned around fixing his clothes approaching the crib, his face lit up almost immediately when he saw the small frame of his son with fresh tears in his eyes stretching his arms in a silent request.

The cries of the child had broken the lustful magic happening between the Kings; Thranduil rested his head on his pillow taking deep breaths to calm himself up, his ears twitched when they caught the sound of Thorin whispering in Khuzdûl. The Elven-King straightened himself up with a heavy heart and warm spreading through his soul, he watched as Thorin picked Kíli up holding him against his chest while rocking him lovingly. It was a sight he was never tired of seeing, it made him wonder how things had changed for the better in his life, how this is what it was supposed to be at the very beginning with Legolas and Haldir.  His desires forgotten, Thranduil gave into his paternal instincts longing to bring comfort to the sobbing child, he remained in bed though while admiring how easily it was for Thorin to get everything under control. Thranduil had known for a very long time he would never regret his decision or the path he took the moment he was promised to the dwarf. Even if he had been reluctant and had surrounded to misery and unhappiness, he found himself mistaken living in a world of happiness and love he never thought possible.

Thorin was still enchanted by the crying child in his arms, Kíli sobbed snuggling closer to the dwarf with his little hand grabbing one of the braids. Thorin smiled leaning in placing a kiss on the baby’s forehead before he lifted his face shooting Thranduil a mischievous smile, his eyes caressing the body of his lover with love and contained desire.

“I told you he would wake up.” Thorin commented smirking when Thranduil looked away slightly embarrassed, Kíli lifted his foot babbling slightly and Thorin was looking back at his son staring tenderly. “We told, Ada, didn’t we Kíli? We told him you would wake up if we start something we could not finish.”

Thorin chuckled before the glare Thranduil was sending his way, the dwarf stepped forward when Kíli made a face and started sobbing again. Thranduil stood up meeting his lover and his son midway, he leaned in cracking a smile when Kíli shifted his attention to him lifting his little hands and clenching and unclenching his fists. Thranduil could not deny the silent petition of his son and soon he had him in his arms pressing his head against his chest holding him up with a single arm. Kíli had been born small, with short straight, dark brown hair and deep blue eyes, his features were fair and chubby with his ears pointy and curved the way Legolas and Thranduil had them; Kíli had been perfect bringing love and peace to his parent’s hearts. Thorin broke into a half-smile watching as Thranduil sang in elvish, Kíli yawned snuggling closer to the elf with his eyes fluttering close. Thranduil caressed the chubby cheeks, his face breaking into a tender façade while Thorin could only observed with a trembling soul the sight of his family. The Dwarven-King allowed his stare to wander off down the naked torso of his lover until he realized Thranduil was bleeding, he stepped forward with his fingertips brushing slightly the bleeding wound. Thranduil tensed glancing down only to see Thorin staring at him with concern.

“You’re bleeding.” Thorin stated lifting his finger strained with blood.

“I think I stress myself when incorporating.” Thranduil explained. “It is nothing, Meleth. It doesn’t hurt.”

“It hurts me.” Thorin explained blinking slightly. “It hurts my soul whenever I see you wounded, even if this wound means the birth of our little miracle.”

Thranduil chuckled nodding, “If it makes you feel better, you can help me clean it up. Since, today it seems we will not do nothing else but share the bed with Kíli in our arms.”

“While I will miss spending my nights inside of you.” Thorin commented in a deep voice. “I would never say no if I were to share my bed with you and Kíli.”

Thranduil stopped rocking the baby settling down on the bed, he placed Kíli in the middle of the bed covering him slightly with their bedsheets. Thorin stepped forward putting Thranduil to him, he wrapped Thranduil’s lips with his kissing the elf with all the love he was feeling at the moment.

“You should lie down, I will bring something for your bleeding wound. And I will also bring some food.” Thorin caressed the golden locks of the elf nuzzling Thranduil’s face tenderly. “Do you need anything else?”

Thranduil wrapped his hands around Thorin, “You.”

Thorin snickered glancing at the sleepy Kíli then at Thranduil, “I don’t think that’s going to happen anytime soon, _Amrâl._ ”

Thorin went to place a tender kiss on his elf’s lips, he moved away slowly putting on something decent before directing his footsteps to the door.

“I will bring some food then, and something to clean and cover your wound. I’ll be back in a moment.”

“Go if you must, you cruel King.” Thranduil commented with a hint of teasing in his voice.” Your child and I will wait for you; though I have to warn you, Thorin. I won’t forget today, thus I won’t let this go.”

Thorin froze in place feeling dread and desired building up in him when Thranduil smirked dangerously at him. The Dwarven-King swallowed shaking his head before leaving the room. Once Thorin was gone, Thranduil returned his attention to his now sleeping son, the elf laid on his side placing a protective hand around the small frame of the dwelf.

“My dear, Ion-nîn, you are the best gift I have had in a while.” Thranduil whispered tenderly. “I had feared you would not come to us, but you came in the right moment.”

Thranduil took in the small frame of his son thinking about the last happenings in the Kingdom. He had known for a very long time that having a child with Thorin would seal his destiny even more. Thranduil knew a lot would be said about Kíli’s birth and what it meant for the little dwelf to be born a Prince. Not two days after his birth, Kíli became a beacon of hope for Erebor and Mirkwood both Kingdoms understood their destiny had been finally entangled in a single destiny, all quarrels born in the past should be forgotten if they wanted to forge a new future. This was easy for the younger ones than for the elders in both Kingdoms, the Elven Council had already made his opinion regarding the birth of Kíli and the words of the elders still resounded in Thranduil’s mind: soon their Kingdom would need to answer to one King who would be the embodiment of two great Kingdoms and two great races; a Prince who could turn into a great leader or a terrible one.  And, while Kíli was welcomed with gifts, blessings and compliments, the council had stated their intentions to begin with an early education of the young Prince.

Thranduil had been overly protective of his son, though. And Thorin had enjoyed as Thranduil made it clear to the Elven Council no one but Thorin and Thranduil and Legolas and even their closest friends would have any said in the education of Kíli.

The Elven-King brushed away some locks from his son’s forehead remembering the day he had been presented to the Elven Council. Thranduil had been scared for the memories of what that council had done with Legolas was still fresh in his mind. Thranduil still remembered Legolas was treated as a shame instead of a Prince, the Elven-King had been cold always judging with his eyes the elders coming his way with fake smiles on their faces trying to get a glimpse of the miracle that was Kíli. Thorin had understood his husband’s trepidation, he had made it possible for the council to come in the Antler room but had also made sure Kíli was always in the protective embrace of his arms or the arms of the Elven-King. Still, not many dare to get any closer to the Kings and their son when Beleg sat at their side and Legolas and Glorfindel stood guarding them.

In the end, and after so many discussions the Elven Council had recognized Kíli’s status as their Prince and future King. The elders had stepped aside offering the Royal Crown to the baby, as it was the elven costume, with the circlet they not only proclaimed Kíli as the rightful heir to the throne the were also making a pledge of obedience to their Kings and their Prince. The elves didn’t take lightly to this things and thus, to make it even more real, in the tongue of the Sindar and the Noldor Kíli was proclaimed and accepted and this was all Thranduil was hoping for.  Now, as morning approached, Thranduil knew they will not only face the Dwarven kingdom but also they honored guests and the rest of Arda would get to know the young Prince.

Thranduil sighed watching as Kíli yawned turning his head to the side, the elf smile closing his eyes for a moment.

*****

Thorin entered his room only to find them on the bed.

Thranduil was lying on his left side with a protective arm around the small form of Kíli who was babbling and playing with his hands. Thorin stepped into the room, his eyes flickering towards the open doors of the balcony, the night was being ignited by the starts twinkling in the sky and the silver light of the moon standing proudly above the mountain. He made his way to the bed sitting down slowly; as soon as he did, those deep blue orbs turned to him and the face of his son lit up. He gurgled closing and opening his fist, his legs lifting in the air; Thorin smiled tenderly at the child he leaned in to caress the soft skin of his son’s cheek.

“Hey, there _inùdoy_ (son)” Thorin whispered smiling when Kíli grabbed his finger and went to put it in his mouth. The Dwarven-King took his finger away shaking his head, he turned his attention to the Elven-King who was sleeping deeply.

“Do you think if I stole you for a moment he would get mad?” Thorin asked to the baby who babbled some more before yawning. Thorin chuckled leaning in to kiss the baby on his forehead, Kíli scrunched up his nose turning away. “I brought you and Ada some food. You must be as tired as him, and yet, here you are all awake and full of energy.”

Thorin lowered his gaze to see the healing wound in Thranduil’s abdomen the blood had dried already and it seemed as if the wound was not bothering the elf anymore; Thorin lifted his hand to allow his fingertips a timid caress of the scar. He saw how Thranduil shivered under his touch shifting slightly only to snuggle closer to Kíli. Thorin sighed remembering how hard had it been for Thranduil to get away from Kíli at first, he had not allowed anyone but Thorin, Legolas and Dís to get close to the baby; at first, Thorin had been confused and he had been just as protective and stubborn as Thranduil had been. It wasn’t until Glorfindel spoke to him Thorin understood why the odd behavior, a part of Thranduil would always be afraid his son, his child, would be taken away the same way Legolas had been. Even know, after two weeks of Kíli being born, Thorin could still see the fear and apprehension trying to take over his husband; Thorin leaned in kissing the soft forehead of his lover before leaning back and lying to the other side of Kíli.

“Should I give you your bottle or should we go to sleep?” Thorin inquired to which Kíli responded with a gurgling noise taking his hand to his mouth. Thorin chuckled standing up and moving to the table where he had placed a bottle filled with warm milk and honey. “I guess we are eating first.”

With care and making sure he would not wake Thranduil, Thorin picked Kíli up placing him comfortably against his abdomen while placing his left arm under the baby. He positioned Kíli in a semi-sitting position while putting the straw of the bottle in the baby’s lips, soon Kíli was drinking eagerly with his eyes fluttering close from time to time.

The night advanced giving space to the day, by the time dawn arrived Thorin had laid to the other side of the bed and Kíli had been placed in between both Kings.  

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

“He looks like you.” Bilbo commented softly, the hobbit smiled making faces to the baby who was babbling looking around with his curious eyes.

“No, he doesn’t.” Thorin replied smiling proudly, “He looks like his Ada and his brother.”

Legolas stood behind Thorin glancing at the baby with a thoughtful expression, his heart was already warm and filled with love for the baby. He looked into those blue eyes melting immediately, the Elven-Prince smiled shaking his head.

“He does look like you, though.” Legolas said. “He has my eyes but, then again, I have Ada’s eyes.”

Bofur leaned into the crib pursing his lips, “He is quite the dwelf.”

“I still don’t know how you could come up with such a name.” Thranduil snorted shaking his head, he hushed the dwarves before picking a fuzzing Kíli from his crib.

“It was easy.” Bofur said mumbling.

“It took him two days, I saw the scraps of scrolls he used to come up to the name.” Nori chimed in smirking.

“At least, I try to come up with a name. You guys didn’t even help a little to the cause.”

“What cause?” Dwalin asked furrowing his brows.

Bofur shot him an offend stare before shaking his head, “Really? The cause of naming our Prince something other than half-elf and half-dwarf, we have to join those terms the way he joined our Kingdoms.”

“If it didn’t sound a little bit logic, I would say you are an idiot.” Dwalin replied rolling his eyes.

Bofur smirked in triumph crossing his arms, “I have always been the smartest of the group.”

Legolas chuckled fixing the pillows of the sofa while helping his father to sit down, the young Prince glanced at his little brother who had tears in his eyes and was now trying to eat his hand. Thranduil whispered in elvish putting the hand away only to see Kíli scrunched up his face and break into needy sobs.

“Ada…” Legolas protested to which Thranduil shook his head.

“He just needs his bottle, not his hand.” Thranduil commented poking Kíli’s nose.

The little dwelf shook his head in weak protest to which Legolas couldn’t help but smirk, Thranduil melted right away leaning in to kiss the baby’s forehead. The Elven-King lifted his face to see the company was still engaged in a childish discussion about who was the smartest of them all, Thorin came in huffing.

“If you ask me, they’re all idiots.” Thorin commented in a whisper, Legolas snickered glancing back at his brother.

Thranduil fixed his arms to position the baby against his chest, his arms around the little form of the baby. Kíli found relief in the hold of his father, he snuggled closer though he was still whimpering softly. Thorin came right in, he brought the bottle filled with the amber liquid made of honey and milk; Legolas watched from afar with a gently smile on his face as Thorin sat right beside Thranduil watching as the Elven-King fed Kíli.

“He does look like them, don’t you think?” Bilbo caught the Elven-Prince by surprise, Legolas glanced at the hobbit nodding.

“He does.” Legolas sighed still looking at the scene.

“Are you all right?” Bilbo asked carefully, Legolas nodded.

“I am, I…he is my little brother, you know?” Legolas commented. “I wasn’t sure at first but when Thorin called me and I was there to meet him…”

Bilbo couldn’t help but feel relief when he heard Legolas, he watched the young elf with care and he knew there was nothing they should worry about. Legolas was already in love with Kíli the way the whole company seemed to be. The hobbit warmed up before the thought of peace and happiness finally filling the halls without any shadow of doubt or negative feelings.

“I couldn’t help but love my _Muindor_.” Legolas said softly before pressing his hand to his chest. “I can feel him here.”

“I’m glad you think like this, Prince Legolas.” Bilbo replied placing his hand on the Prince, Legolas glanced at the hobbit with some amusement behind his blue eyes.

“You all thought I would be jealous, didn’t you?”

Bilbo shrugged sheepishly, “We did. We even plan some things to let you know you are one of us, regardless of Kíli being born you are our first Prince.”

Legolas warmed up before those words, he felt his eyes welling up before he shook his head placing his hand on Bilbo’s shoulders.

“All of you are incredible, you know this, right? Father, Thorin, Kíli and I are very fortunate to have you as our family.”

Bilbo smiled nodding, “Now, go and help your parents. I will calm the horde of rabid wolves over there and get ready for the feast.”

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

The presentation of Kíli had taken place in a secure and semi-private dining room.

Only the members of the Council and those of Royal blood from other Kingdoms were allowed in the formal presentation of the heir. It was a strange ritual in which Kíli was named formally and the presents would bring gifts of some significance and usefulness. Kíli slept most of the time only waking up when he felt the distressed fëa of his father, the child whimpered lifting his arms blinking away his sleepiness. Thranduil leaned in to pick him up, his lips curling upwards when he realized Kíli was only calling for Thorin’s attention, the Elven-King turned to his husband only to see him facing Bard.

“I think congratulations are in order.” Bard shifted his stare from Thorin to Thranduil, the man swallowed offering a polite bow of his head to the elf. Then his eyes shifted to the bundle of life in the elf’s arms, he turned to Thorin. “May I?”

Thorin felt foolish all of a sudden, for some reason having seen Bard again brought to him the past. If things had turned out to be different, this could have been Bard’s child not his; Thorin shook his head opening his mouth to answer when he realized Thranduil was right beside him.

“Someone wants you to hold him.” Thranduil commented tenderly, Bard watched from afar as Kíli went from Thranduil to Thorin’s arms.

It was a heartwarming moment, the man could see the love coming out of both Kings and the strong ties that hold them together. In another moment and another time, he would have felt the piercing stab of jealousy and lost before the scene in front of his eyes; however, after four years and the last nine months Bard had come to accept and to leave what could have never been behind. Bard stepped forward sensing his children right behind him, Tilda grabbed his hand trying to get a glimpse of the baby. Bard smiled turning his attention back to the Kings in front of him, his smile only grew when Thorin stepped forward and his face was a mask of pure adoration.

“Kíli, meet Bard and his children.” Thorin stated fixing the child in his arms, Bard stepped forward and his eyes fell upon the form of the dwelf child.

Sigrid sighed with her mouth forming a huge grin, “He is beautiful, King Thorin, King Thranduil. Congratulations.”

Thorin smiled back nodding, “Yes, he is. He looks just like his father.”

“Which one?” Tilda inquired crunching up her nose looking from Thorin to Thranduil.

“Thranduil, of course.” Thorin answered back, Kíli yawned blinking a little with his eyes fixated on Thorin.

“We brought gifts.” Bain said suddenly stepping forward. “We discussed about this a long time, because we couldn’t agree on something proper for Prince Kíli.”

“You didn’t have to.” Thorin replied. “You coming here and offering your friendship is more than enough.”

Bard quirked a brow at the dwarf shaking his head, “Now, I believe those are manners you were taught in the forest.”

King Thorin chuckled looking at Thranduil who was smirking back, “You know how it is, I imagine.”

“I never got to experience that. You are very fortunate, and I am happy for you and King Thranduil, both of you deserve whatever happiness you can get.” Bard replied honestly, Thorin stared at the man for a long time until Kíli called for his attention by grabbing one of the braids of his beard.

“Likewise, King Bard. You deserve all the happiness you can get.” Thorin replied bowing his head.

Bain looked out of the corner of his eyes at his sister who was looking back, both of them gave a sigh of relief while their faces turned into a more relax and content façade. Bain stepped forward taking the square box one of his helpers brought, the young Prince stepped forward opening the box revealing a bow and arrows.

“Like I said, we discussed this long and hard.” Bain said. “Since I know Legolas is a good archer and I’ve heard King Thranduil is the best there is in the whole region well…”

“We thought this could be a good gift, though he would be able to use it a few years from now.” Finished Sigrid smiling sheepishly.

“It’s a great gift, thank you.” Thranduil locked his eyes with those of Bard feeling relief in his heart when those brown eyes look back at him with friendship and only friendship in them.

“Are you calmer now?” Thranduil inquired when Bard and his children went back to their table and the Kings and the Prince were giving a moment of peace.

Thorin placed Kíli on his crib allowing the child to grab his finger while he babbled kicking and fidgeting on his bed. The Dwarven-King cocked his head and his eyes found those of Thranduil, the elf stepped closer to him placing his hand on top of his relishing in their connection.

“I was calm.” Thorin replied to which Thranduil merely snorted.

“Kíli sensed your discomfort.” Thranduil pointed out to which Thorin looked away.

“I was being foolish, I admitted it.” Thorin mumbled before facing his lover putting his hand to his lips. “I know you and him belong to the past. But, lately what happened in the forest and with Kíli’s birth I’ve been thinking about the road we took to get ourselves to this point.”

Thranduil felt his heart shrank with those words, the elf nodded coking his head to the side until his eyes fell upon the form of his father.

“I know.” Thranduil smiled leaning in to kiss Thorin softly. “I understand. Come, King Thorin, we have to keep welcoming our guests.”

By the time dinner was about to be served Thorin and Thranduil had already welcomed everyone and Kíli had been already filled with gifts. Kíli was now being held by Legolas who was holding him as if he was made of glass, Bilbo chuckled instructing Legolas on how to hold the head and positioned him right before feeding him.

“I’m just…what if I hurt him?” Legolas inquired for the seventh time, Bilbo rolled his eyes with Fíli chuckling amusedly.

“You won’t hurt him, Legolas. Just, do it.” Fíli leaned in looking enchanted by the scene. “He is so tiny, was I this small?”

“Well, yes.” Bilbo replied looking contemplative for a moment. “I think even smaller.”

“And pretty charming, I bet.” Legolas commented smirking, Fíli glanced at the elf with his cheeks warming up.

“He was, though a little messy.” Bilbo continued, Legolas laughed when Fíli opened his eyes in horror.

“Well, he is still messy.”

“Legolas! Aren’t you supposed to support me or something?” The young dwarf protest weakly, Legolas fixated his stare on Fíli, a shadow crossed his eyes when he saw the still healing wound on Fíli’s head.

“Yes, I’m supposed to be supporting you, aren’t I?” Legolas answered.

Bilbo narrowed his eyes hearing the far away tone in the elf’s voice, he could see the blue eyes of the elf were completely focused on Fíli who was concentrated on his food. Legolas shook his head furrowing his brows, he lowered his gaze to see Kíli was done with his food and was now sleeping on his arms.

“Are you all right?” Bilbo finally asked.

Legolas snickered helping Kíli burp before allowing him any sleep, “Nothing escapes your sight, eh?”

Bilbo shrugged smiling cheekily at him, “I’ve been in this mountain since I was very young and I have been Thorin and the company’s friend the same amount of time…nothing can escape my eyes because with them you have to be very alert.”

“I bet.” Legolas shifted his stare to Fíli who had been engaged in a conversation with Bain, the Elven-Prince frowned looking at Bilbo who had an eyebrow arched and amusement gleaming in his eyes.

“I just…Fíli was hurt because I wasn’t paying attention.” Legolas finally said. “I cannot bear the thought of him being hurt. Of…anyone in my family being hurt.”

Legolas corrected the last part quickly evading the knowing glance of the hobbit, “I cannot bear the thought of Fíli…or Kíli getting hurt in a surprised attack like the last one.”

Bilbo huffed, “I heard about it. Still no clues about it.”

“I know, Master Glorfindel was furious about it.”

“Well, today is a day of celebration, we will think about this later and we will solve it. Don’t worry.” Bilbo then sat down putting his plate of food closer. “I think I’m going to finish this, do you want something?”

“Not yet, I think I’m just going to take Kíli back to his crib.”

Bilbo watched as Legolas stood up taking the baby to his parents, when the hobbit turned his head he saw Fíli was watching Legolas intently. The young dwarf then turned his face letting out a longing sigh. The hobbit shook his head drinking some wine, the future certainly promise a lot of adventures and he wasn’t sure he was going to be young forever to help around and make everything work correctly.

“So, you gonna finish that?” Bofur sat beside Bilbo eyeing the raspberry cupcake, Bilbo narrowed his eyes putting the cupcake against his chest.

“Yes, I am. Stop right there because I’m not sharing.” Bilbo warned, Bofur lifted his arms smirking cheekily at the hobbit.

“I wasn’t gonna ask, just curious…” Bofur kept his eyes on Bilbo and the hobbit squirmed uncomfortably under the stare.

“Stop it. Stop it or I swear I will make you pay.” Bilbo threated thought he wasn’t sounding all that convincing.

Bofur leaned in still smiling, with his eyes gleaming, “I dunno what you are talking about.”

Bofur and Bilbo faced one another for a long time, Fíli put his hand on his mouth covering his laughter. Bain was shaking his head taking two cupcakes in his hand and hiding them away.

“I hate you.” Bilbo mumbled splitting his cupcake in two before giving Bofur one of the sides.

Bofur winked at him then at Fíli, “You and I know that’s not true, I owe you one.”

Bilbo watched Bofur walked away, he shook his head taking the other half of his cupcake still thinking how easily was for Bofur to get whatever he wanted from Bilbo. Life, certainly, wasn’t fair.

*****

Thorin remained in his chair when Oropher finally came to them.

The Dwarven-King perceived his elf’s distress when Oropher came closer to the crib where Kíli was sleeping peacefully. The former Elven-King inclined his body to get a better look of his grandson, his lips curled up slightly at the sleeping form of the dwelf; without needing to look around he knew Thranduil was standing behind him and Legolas positioned himself to the side of the crib in a protective gesture.

Oropher dropped his smile with sadness filling his features, the mistakes of the past were hunting him still. He stepped back tilting his head to face Thranduil, the Elven-King was standing before his father with the summer crown on his head standing proudly and matching the deep blue and green of the clothing he was wearing for the celebration.

“He resembles you greatly.” Oropher finally spoke before his eyes drifted to stare at Thorin. “Though, he is the spitting image of King Thorin.”

“He seems to have inherit the best of the both of us.” Thranduil finally spoke. “It is good to see you again, father.”

“Is it?” Oropher inquired without malice in his tone.

Thranduil tensed glancing at Kíli, then at Legolas and finally at Oropher, “Yes, it is.”

“You have always been a bad liar, Thranduil.” Oropher replied shaking his head. “But, I understand your trepidation. I have come today, Thranduil because I want to make amends.”

Thranduil swallowed when all he could see was honesty behind his father’s eyes, the King approached his son placing a tentative hand on Thranduil’s shoulder.

“I know I have made great mistakes by you in the past. I do not know how to ask for forgiveness, but I do want to ask you to allow me a second chance, Thranduil.”

Thranduil relaxed his body when Thorin made contact with him, he felt stronger when Thorin grabbed his hand and their souls intertwined. Legolas stepped forward glancing the scene with curiosity and some apprehension.

“I can you give that.” Thranduil finally said. “I can try, but it would take some time.”

“I know.” Oropher placed his right hand on his chest bowing deeply. “Thank you.”

“Do you want to meet your grandson, then?” Thorin broke the tension in the air with his comment, Oropher’s face lit up and the former King nodded.

“I would like that very much.”

From afar, sitting on a table with Glorfindel, Celeborn watched as his brother seemed to be making peace with his son and his family. The Lord of Lothlórien softened greatly when Thorin put the baby in Oropher’s hesitant arms, Legolas was grinning widely with Thranduil standing close to them with his lips curling involuntarily into a content smile.

“I have never thought this kind of happiness and peace could be possible.” Glorfindel commented, his eyes drifted away for a moment and the fell upon the table where King Bard was conversing animatedly with Queen Dís.

Celeborn sat back glancing coldly at the cup in his hand before he shook away the gloomy thoughts in his head.

“It is true. It have been a while since Middle Earth breathe peace.” Celeborn mumbled, Glorfindel furrowed his brows breaking his gaze away from the table where Bard was located to look back at Celeborn.

“I know that tone. Has something happened?” Glorfindel inquired, Celeborn gave a half-smile tilting his head.

“Not today, today we celebrate.” Glorfindel opened his mouth to protest but Celeborn shook his head. “Look at them, look at him…Thranduil and Thorin deserve this moment of happiness and tranquility.”

Glorfindel glanced at his friend who was now laughing with his hand firmly entangled with the hand of Thorin. Kíli was being lifted up in the air by Oropher with Legolas squirming worriedly. The Captain of the elven guards nodded leaning back against the chair, his eyes drifted away to the table where Bard was at. He almost flinched away when he found himself looking into the eyes of the King of Dale.

“It seems as if Mithrandir is ready.” Celeborn broke Glorfindel’s stare, the elf turned to the Lord of Lothlórien who was watching the wizard speaking with the Kings. “Good, it has been a long while since I last saw one of his fireworks spectacles.”

Glorfindel stood up following Celeborn, “I think it is fitting, we will see what forms he had created for this event.”

The people filling the room was soon invited to the gates of the Kingdom, Mithrandir let his voice resounded in the great hall speaking of the final touches off his gift for the young Prince and the proud parents. Everyone stood up leaving the hall with curiosity filling their minds, Fíli came running right to where Legolas was standing with Kíli in his arms.

“What are we going to do?” The young dwarf asked eyeing the baby Legolas was holding with such care.

“Apparently, Mithrandir has brought some of his legendary fireworks.” Legolas glanced at Fíli. “Have you seen them before?”

Fíli scrunched up his nose shaking his head, “No, I don’t think so. Are they beautiful?”

“Yes, they are. The most beautiful sight you will see in a night like this one.” Legolas replied poking Kíli on his nose before turning his eyes to Fíli, the young dwarf shook his head showing a toothy grin to the elf.

“I don’t think that’s possible.” Fíli proclaimed. “You are the most beautiful sight I usually get to see during nights like this.”

“Very well, young enchanter, let’s keep going or else we won’t have a place to watch the fireworks.” Dís shook her head amusedly, her eyes gleaming wickedly when she realized Legolas was left stunned with a soft blush sneaking on his cheeks.

“But, mother…”

“I know, I know…just keep going, I think it is time you and your father had a special conversation.” Dís continued shaking her head placing her hand on his son’s shoulder.

Fíli shot Legolas a final glance before following his mother, Legolas lowered his gaze to Kíli who was looking at him while sucking on his close fist. Thranduil came to them wrapping his arm around Legolas shoulders, the Elven-King sighed contentedly placing a tender kiss on his son’s forehead.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, just…” Legolas furrowed his brows before shaking his head. “Do you ever wonder about how far we have come?”

“I do.” Thranduil confirmed eyeing his son. “When Kíli was born I wondered about the past, about the present and what the future might hold.”

Legolas tried to take Kíli’s hand away from the baby’s mouth, Kíli crunched up his nose with his eyes gleaming stubbornly as he took his fist back into his mouth. Thranduil watched with fondness the interaction, with Legolas trying to put the little hand away and Kíli trying to take it back to his mouth.

“He is really stubborn, I don’t want to imagine the kind of troubles he is going to be in once he has grown enough to run.” Legolas commented with a half-smile, Kíli was looking at him with a small frown and his hand moving stubbornly back into his mouth.

Thranduil snorted tilting his head to where Thorin was holding a conversation with Dwalin, Bilbo and Glorfindel.

“I believe I will let Thorin deal with that once Kíli is older enough.” Thranduil chuckled picking Kíli up in his arms, the child giggled in delight before yawning sleepily. “Come, there are some fireworks done specially for you, Ion-nîn.”

Legolas followed his father and brother contently, his mind drifting slightly to what had happened back in the forest. Fear tried to sneak inside his heart again, fear of losing his father, his brother, Thorin…Fíli. The young Elven-Prince shook his head making a silent promise of being ready for whatever might come their way, he lifted his head and his eyes gleamed with determination for he would not allow any evil to bring pain and suffering to his love ones; even if he had to die in the process.

*****

The Valley had been arrange so everyone had a perfect spot to observe the fireworks in the sky.

The nights were becoming colder and darker, but the sky was still filled with twinkling stars and a bright moon projecting a silver light on the land. Gandalf came forth to the place where he had placed his fireworks, Bilbo was right beside him speaking animatedly about his duties as a Chamberlain and Gandalf was in turn telling stories about the Shire.

“They really miss you.”  Gandalf finished to which Bilbo cocked a brow looking skeptical.

“They? As in everyone or just the Took?” Bilbo inquired, Gandalf conceded nodding.

“Very well, your cousins from the Took and Brandybuck side miss you.” Gandalf smiled slightly watching as Bilbo glanced around with longing in his eyes. “You should come some time, you know?”

“I’m not sure I want to leave the mountain, or my friends.” Bilbo replied contemplatively.

“You will go for a visit, not to stay.”

“I know, I don’t think I could ever go there to enjoy a normal, hobbit life.” Bilbo shrugged glancing behind him to see Thorin dotting on his child and husband. “I may think about it once Kíli is older.”

Gandalf turned back, his eyes taking in the strange yet familiar sight of elves and dwarves sitting around one another talking animatedly. It had been such a long time since something like this happened, the Maia might not had been present by the time the world had separate the races in conflict and blood, but he had been there to see there was always hope for their relationship to be mended. Who would have thought everything would come down to an heir of King Thingol and an heir of King Durin? Gandalf certainly hadn’t imagined this and he knew for certain even Lady Galadriel hadn’t thought of this possibility. Yet, here they were, Thranduil and Thorin sitting down with a little baby in between them, a baby with elf and dwarf blood on his veins and a bright future before him.

Gandalf returned his attention to his fireworks smiling broadly, “The world seems to be a brighter place now. Think about my proposal, Bilbo, and I may come and accompany you in this journey.”

“Oh, I was hoping you will come, though I’m suspecting Bofur, Nori and Oín may want to come as well.” Bilbo chuckled. “We will see, there is still time, right?”

“Yes, I believe there is.” Gandalf then whispered in a tongue Bilbo didn’t recognize and the first of his fireworks took off igniting the sky.

The world stood still with the red and yellow lights exploding in a flowery form in the sky, people around them made exclamations of admiration and cheers could be heard all through the valley. Gandalf sent another set into the sky and this time around the fireworks drawn the Lonely Mountain in the sky, the dwarves all cheered and then it was the turn of the elves to cheer when Gandalf produced another set forming the outlines of Mirkwood.

Thranduil looked into the sky with a heavy heart and hope filling his soul, he felt the warm of Thorin going through their joined hands directly into his very core. The Elven-King squeezed the hand holding his and soon he found himself looking into those dark eyes, the world had worked in strange ways to join his destiny with the destiny of the dwarf looking at him with such love.

“You are thinking to loud, _Amrâl_.” Thorin whispered placing a tender kiss on the elf’s hand.

Thranduil smiled with his heart beating a tad bit faster, the way it always did whenever Thorin was this close.

“I’m thinking enough, _Meleth.”_

The sound of laughter and babbling made them look back where Legolas and Fíli were holding a wide awake Kíli. Oropher and Dís were right there watching the child and the fireworks, their family and friends were all sharing the same space while the celebrations around Kíli’s birth continued.

“So, how long before we try for another one?”

The question caught Thranduil by surprised, the elf turned to his lover and soon his laughter was resounding in the midst of the cheers and celebrations. Thranduil, leaned in capturing the dwarf’s lips in his. They kissed as if there was no tomorrow, they kissed with the silent promise of forever while their souls danced around one another. When they finally broke the kiss Thranduil leaned closer not caring his height didn’t allow for a comfortable position to rest his head on the dwarf’s shoulder.

“We can try for another as soon as we have the time to do so, _Meleth_. Your son is quite demanding of our attention at the moment.” Thranduil replied closing his eyes and enjoying the knowledge of Thorin’s smile.

“You know? Your father is here, we can ask him to take care of Kíli for a day or two.” Thorin wrapped his arms around Thranduil putting him closer, Thranduil chuckled turning his head slightly so he could look at Thorin out of the corner of his eyes.

“A day or two?” He asked with half-smile, his eyes gleaming mischievously.

“ _Amrâl_ I will take my time to taste you and to make you mine all over again. One day is not enough.”

“You are such a romantic.” Thranduil placed his hand on top of Thorin’s one, his heart was trembling with emotions he thought elusive in his life. Happiness and love was filling his whole being at the moment, whatever shadows the past had brought to him were now backing off before the light Thorin and his family had brought.

Thranduil set his blue eyes on his sons watching them growing before his eyes, his soul looking refugee in the soul of his mate. For a brief moment, Thranduil closed his eyes with his heart and soul finally resting the shadows of the past and the present forgotten while the promise of the future spread before them.

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

**_Five years later_ **

The smell of fresh bread and cookies filled the air of the small living room, conversation grew and drinks were passed around. The room was full with little to not space to maneuver with so many plates and mugs in so small hands, Bofur turned standing up to help Bilbo around.

“Thanks.”

“Nonsense, we’re talking about food and beer here.” Bofur replied.

“Thank you, Bofur. That made me feel so appreciated.” Bilbo replied wryly rolling his eyes.

The hobbit looked around the room feeling panic raised inside his chest, “My dear friends, where is Kíli?”

The room fell silent in a single moment, the company all looked around before all settled their eyes in the hobbit who felt a growing headache.

“I left him with you for five minutes.” The hobbit grumbled glaring at everyone. “Look for him!”

Bilbo started looking around his living room until something cold and nasty stirred in his chest, the hobbit narrowed his eyes looking around before sneaking out of the main hall to one of the adjacent halls. His footsteps, quiet and cunning, lead him to the room he thought he had closed with a lock. His heart speed up when he placed his hand on the doorknob, he opened the door slowly and his ears twitched catching a strange sound coming from inside. He sneaked in and his eyes settle on the small frame of the Prince kneeling down with curiosity on his face.

“Kíli!” Bilbo exclaimed and he resisted the urge of going over there and take the box Kíli was holding form the child.

Kíli turned around with big guilty eyes, he lowered his gaze standing up with shame on his face, “Uncle Bilbo.”

“What are you doing here?” Bilbo stepped into the room with his eyes completely fixed on the box and the golden ring Kíli was holding.

“I got lost and I found this.” Kíli showed the box and then the ring, though he had a frown on his childish features. “It was whispering, uncle.”

“You shouldn’t be here, this is my private room Kíli.” Bilbo sounded disappointed shaking his head while he took the box and the ring off of Kíli’s hands. Kíli had tears in his eyes and was still looking down.

“Sorry.” Kíli’s voice was small and trembling.

For a moment Bilbo glanced at the boy with anger before something inside him stirred in memory of who the child was, the hobbit shook his head kneeling down. Bilbo placed his hands on the dwelf’s shoulders smiling tenderly at him, the box and the ring forgotten on the floor.

“I’m sorry. I should have been more careful to make sure you were being entertained.” Bilbo said lifting Kíli’s face with his fingers.

“Are you mad?” Kíli asked with the same small voice and Bilbo felt his heart shrank at the sight.

“No, I’m not though…let’s keep this box and this ring as our little secret, yes?” Bilbo suddenly asked, Kíli blinked slightly furrowing his brows.

“A secret?” Kíli inquired curiously, Bilbo nodded and the child nodded.

“Good, now you want cookies?” Bilbo asked and Kíli’s eyes lit up. “Let’s go then, before the company destroys my living room looking for you.”

“Are we sharing the cookies with them?” Kíli asked to which Bilbo chuckled grabbing the child’s hand in his.

“I don’t know, they were supposed to be watching over you.”

“More cookies for me!” Kíli exclaimed with a toothless smile, Bilbo laughed nodding.

“I like this idea, let’s go we will eat all the cookies and make them look.”

Kíli followed Bilbo though the child did turn his stare back to the room they had been in, he had a small frown on his face and a strange coldness came over him. He squeezed the hand of the hobbit walking closer to Bilbo shaking his head while trying to escape the strangeness that had been that ring.

 

 

  **The End**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This journey with you guys had been fantastic.  
> This story and all f you have been keeping me sane in the good and the bad moments of my life. I love this story and I love this pairing and I hope I made them justice with this little piece. Thank you all for your comments, your kudos, your bookmarks and for reading the story an giving me an opportunity to share it with you. 
> 
> There is an epilogue left one that happens several years in the future and that is the beginning of the shadows goring in Arda.   
> Thank you all!


	30. Epilogue: One Ring to Rule them All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More than fifteen years had passed since Prince Kíli was born, more than ninteen years since King Thorin and King Thranduil had become Kings. 
> 
> The world had been changing and not for the better, the shadows had been covering the land and, as the winter approached, so did the evil in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your comments, for reading the story and just for being there.  
> This is the last chapter. The epilogue, actually. I hope you enjoy it!

**Chapter 30**

**Epilogue**

**“One Ring to Rule them All”**

 

 

She fell down on the frozen ground with a heavy thud.

The sound of heavy footsteps behind her became louder, growls and snarls followed her senses as she tried to incorporate. Her breathing was harsh on her lungs; her legs were trembling in silent protests for she had been running for far too long. She shivered under the cold wind biting her skin, the snowflakes started falling again and the day sky darkened threatening the world with an oncoming storm. She took a deep breath watching the darkness of the forest, her eyes fell upon grey trunks and grey leaves everything around her covered with the marks of winter.

She trembled again lifting her good hand to wipe away the rolling sweat of her forehead, she sighed with her green eyes taking in the nasty wound on her left arm. She cursed silently realizing she could not use her bow in this state, her sword was resting comfortably on the sheath and her right hand closed around the hilt with determination. The forest fell silent all of a sudden, she lifted her eyes to the sky trying to catch any sound of her pursuers but nothing could be heard. For a brief foolish moment, she felt relief; perhaps they had giving up or turn on the wrong path.

She was wrong, of course.

The servants of the enemy never got tired and they always got to their victims. This was no exception, as soon as she thought herself save the sounds of screaming orcs reached her ears and she took off once again.

“There she is!” One of the voices growled with malice, the rest of the group howled in triumph.

The forest closed around her branches came out of nowhere scratching at her expose skin and damaging her clothing. She could not care less as she kept running away from the hunters of the enemy, her right hand trembled as she struggled to put her sword out of the sheath. The heavy footsteps of armored feet were getting closer, out of the corner of her eyes she could see the shadows of the orcs approaching for both directions. She was running out of time…

Once again she tripped and the evil laughter of her enemies resounded in her ears like an impending doom. She turned around facing her destiny with the pride of her people; her eyes open wide as her right hand kept struggling to get her sword ready for a last fight.

“I’m going to enjoy breaking you, human.”

She clenched her jaw looking around at the group of orcs closing in, her heart was beating so hard she could heard it in her ears. Her breath came erratic hurting her lungs, she tried to incorporate only to feel a sharp pain on her face when one of the heavy boots crashed against her face. More laughter, she felt tears sneaking in her eyes but she refused to cry. She turned around with the same defiance she had always showed to her enemies, if she was going to die she would die facing them with pride and bravery.

The orc hovered above her, the maze on his hand gleamed dangerously as his hand lifted up ready to crash her skull.

Then, the arrow came out of his neck and a gurgling sound of blood getting sucked into a throat was heard. The orc blinked stupidly before falling on his back.

She opened her eyes looking around while the rest of the orcs screamed and howled in anger. One of them came at her ready to end her life when a shadow came jumping off a tree right in front of her.

She watched as the warrior stood before her and a certain dead, the sound of metal crashing against metal echoed in the forest and her savior spun around with twin blades on his hands. His movements were fluid and lethal, his foot work showed years of training while his strikes were made to kill and not to wound.

“Watch out!” She couldn’t help but scream when she saw a big orc coming from the right, her savior turned slowly only to parry another attack coming from another orc.

She was about to stand up and help when another huge shadow came in, a great wolf jumped on top of the orc tearing his head. The wolf growled dangerously while jumping right on top of another orc.

“Can you wield a sword?” The voice of her savior was harsh and demanding, she lifted her face and for the very first time she saw him.

It was a dwarf.

A very handsome one with long, dark hair and deep blue eyes, his facial features were fair and sharp with a set of pointy ears she had never seen on a dwarf before. He twirled his swords crashing another orc under the weight of his attacks, his eyes locked with hers and there was some impatience in them.

“Well, can you fight or not?” He asked again.

“Yes, I can.” She said standing up on shaky legs, he seemed to hesitate and she frowned placing her hand on the hilt of her sword. “I can fight, dwarf. Put attention they are surrounding us again.”

He eyed her for a moment, his eyes falling on the hand trying to put the sword out of the sheath. He shook his head throwing one of his swords at her, the blade slid on the ground standing erect in front of her.

“It is winter, your sword won’t come out in this cold.” He nodded at his sword. “I hope you are right-handed and good with the sword. Help won’t come for another twenty minutes.”

The big wolf came at them with his muzzle sniffing the air, snarling with his black eyes looking around. She came closer eyeing the beast cautiously, the orcs around them stepped forward growling and mumbling in the dark tongue.

“I hope you know what you’re doing.” She commented when she saw the dwarf smiling cheekily at her.

“Trust me, I know it better than you do, ranger.” She faltered for a moment scowling at the dwarf who soon returned his attention to the orcs.

Then, without a warning they were attacked.

It was a sight to behold.

The group of orcs came at them and many of them fell immediately under the ferocious attack of a great wolf whose paws and teeth were sharper than any of their blades. The forest trembled around them when the dwarf stepped forward lifting his hand, the sword sang into the air cutting through the metal of their armors, the forest closed around them even more and for the orcs it was as if the trees and the branches were all making it impossible to move. She felt it as well, the whispers of the trees and the strange scent in the air, she couldn’t distract himself for far too long though for she too was facing her own set of enemies with the sword of the dwarf taking away the lives of her enemies.

She gasped when her left arm was grabbed by one of the falling orcs, the pain went right through her arms shaking the core of her whole being. She trembled kicking the orc on his face, lifting her good hand to end the life of the orc. Behind her she could hear the dwarf slicing yet another of their enemies and the last heavy body falling to the ground.

And, just like this the forest fell silent again.

She looked around the area watching the bodies of dead orcs around them. Her heart was beating fast with her soul resting in relief inside her. When the fight was done all that was left was a tired human woman and a very stressed dwarf. The forest went back to its silent atmosphere though there was still a heavy tension in the air.

The woman winced at the sharp pain she felt shooting through her arm. Her body trembled ready to give in but she resisted, her eyes turning towards the dwarf who was looking at her with a glint of curiosity in his blue eyes. She squirmed under his stare, her attention drifted almost immediately while her body continued complaining about the pain and the cold. The wolf stepped forward lifting his head to the sky, the snowflakes of the falling snow falling on them dangerously slow.

The dwarf looked to his left furrowing his brows, “We have to get moving.”

“Why?” The woman said in confusion, she didn’t fancy the idea of getting deep into the forest with a stranger, not even if this stranger saved her life.

“More orcs are coming.” The dwarf said with certainty in his tone, she narrowed her eyes at him feeling her heart speeding up at the idea of having to face more orcs after the small group they just defeated.

“How do you know?” She asked flickering her eyes around the forest but finding she could see nothing. “I only have a pack of orcs following me into the forest. I don’t remember there being others.”

The dwarf stiffened tilting his head to the side, his eyes moving down then back to center their attention on the red-hair human standing before him. For a moment, no one and nothing moved in the forest, the wind slid away touching their heated skin; the dwarf held his sword tightly before putting it away turning around to approached the red-head woman.

“I just know there are more orcs coming our way, Ranger.” He commented and she couldn’t help but frown at the name. Her body went stiff when he stood right in front of her, his hand stretching slowly while his eyes locked with hers.

“I have always assumed the Rangers of the North know about the dangers of leaving their swords unwatched during the winter.” The dwarf gave her a half-smile as his hand wrapped around the hilt of her sword. “Perhaps, you skip that class?”

“I don’t know…what are you talking about, _dwarf._ ”

He stopped dead on his tracks when the sharp blade of his sword was pressed tightly against his neck, he lifted his eyes finding intense green eyes looking back at him. He blinked a few times not showing fear or trepidation, if anything all the woman could see was curiosity and amusement.

“What do you think you’re doing?” The woman asked pressing the blade against the dwarf’s neck.

Behind them the wolf growled lowering his body and separating his legs, he positioned himself ready to attack until his yellow-ish eyes found the lifted hand of his master.

“Daro, Beleg.” The dwarf commanded quirking a daring eyebrow to the woman, the wind around them became wilder while the snowflakes started falling faster.

With a single pull of his hand the dwarf put the sword out of its sheath and he soon was threatening the live of the woman standing before him. The woman lifted her face while her eyes went directly to the thin red line she had done on the dwarf’s neck.

“The cold makes the steel froze inside the sheath, it makes it impossible to reach your weapon on time.” He mumbled handing the sword to the woman, his lips curling slightly. “Now, may I have my sword back?”

The woman fixed her eyes on the cut she had done, her cheeks burn in shame as she passed the sword to the dwarf. For a brief moment, she caught sight of the weapons the dwarf was wielding her eyebrows furrowed when she realized the blades were elven made. The dwarf put his other blade away before placing a calming hand on the wolf’s head.

“Who are you?” She finally asked stepping forward only to stop before the growls coming from the wolf. “How do you know I’m a ranger? And, why do you have a wolf as your pet?”

The dwarf blinked for a moment, he turned his face down the darkened forest before returning his attention back to the woman.

“I’m just an inhabitant of the forest.” He said shrugging with a half-smile playing on his lips. “I’m Kíli, by the way. And you, Ranger?”

The red-head gave Kíli a once over before answering, “Tauriel.”

Kíli opened his eyes in surprise before nodding, “Daughter of the forest…fitting.”

Kíli started walking down the road leading to the left, Tauriel stood there for a moment before she shook her head running to catch up to the dwarf.

“Where are we going?” She asked wincing slightly under the pain of her arm.

Kíli looked out of the corner of his eye to the red-head standing beside him, he put forward the rucksack hanging from his back. Tauriel closed her eyes hissing slightly when her good hand clenched around her left arm, she jumped startled when a warm hand reached for her.

“Here, let me help you with that, we won’t go far into the forest with you in this state.” Kíli put a small wooden box from his rucksack, Tauriel eyed the dwarf warily but her body was protesting against the elements of the nature that were making her body hurt all over.

“I thought you said we didn’t have time.” She mumbled still reluctant to let the dwarf near her.

“I did.” Kíli pursed his lips with his eyes flickering towards the wound arm of the woman, he took in the sight before him before shaking his head. “But, you’re in such a shitty state the orcs will be on us way before we reach the gates of the Woodland Realm.”

“And you think you can do something about my shitty state, dwarf?” Tauriel replied irritated, Kíli smirked winking at her.

“Oh, I know I can do something about it, I learn the arts of healing from a very young age.” He commented shaking the wooden box in front of the woman’s eyes.

Tauriel opened her mouth to refuse the help when a wave of dizziness overcame her, she lost her sight for a moment almost falling to the ground until a pair of strong arms wrapped around her. She tried to struggle but her body was already giving in, she felt the dwarf so close to her with his warm body bringing relief to her cold one.

“Are you all right?” The dwarf was kneeling right in front of her in no time, the big wolf came at them with his tailed wriggling happily.

She eyed the animal with mistrust and her stare then turned to the dwarf who was smiling at her.

“He is harmless unless you are an enemy to the forest.” He commented before his eyes went to the wound on her left arm, he opened the box and Tauriel could see a clear ointment there, the smell of fresh herbs familiar in her nostrils.

“Athelas.” She whispered and Kíli grinned nodding eagerly.

“Yep, athelas.” Kíli put the box on the nearest trunk while putting the sleeve from Tauriel’s arm, he creased his brows in concentration losing himself in his task at hand.

Tauriel shivered again feeling the coldness of winter sneaking inside her clothing and reaching the deepest part of her body. She clenched her jaw refusing to let out any sound of protest or pain as the dwarf worked with efficiency on her wound. The smell of the herbs reached her nostrils again filling her soul with relief and warm, she hissed pulling her arm away when the fingers of the dwarf came into contact with the nasty cut she had on her arm.

“Sorry, I should have told you this may sting a little.” Kíli mumbled apologetically, he lifted his eyes and soon found entranced by the deep green of the young woman’s eyes. He offered a weak smile, his lips moving slowly while a whispered in elvish left his mouth.

Tauriel narrowed her eyes at the dwarf, her knowledge in elvish was not as deep as her brother’s one but still she could make some of the words. Her wound burn for a moment and then there was only relief.

“I didn’t know dwarves knew the language of the elves.” She commented wanting to break the growing silence in between them

Kíli pursed his lips, “Not many do.”

“But, you do, Kíli of the Forest?” Tauriel inquired with her lips curling upwards.

Kíli returned the smile and, for a reason unknown to her, her heart fluttered at the sight.

“I do. It was…a requirement.” He mumbled shrugging. “I mean, being a healer and all and…you know? Living in the forest with elves from time to time does make you consider trying to speak their language.”

The young woman remained silent watching as Kíli finished his improvise healing bandaging the wound with care. For a brief moment she felt expose and weak, her mind went back to the moment she ran away from the main group leading her to a well orchestrate trap that almost cost her life. She swallowed down her tears biting the inside of her cheek to hold back her whimpers of pain, her body stiffened when soft fingertips caressed the side of the cut on her arm.

“What are you doing?” She asked sharply with just a hint of coldness in her voice.

Kíli cleared his throat standing up, Beleg came at him wiggling his tail and snuffing the air around them. Tauriel shivered again for the very first time noticing the snowflakes were now becoming more frequent and the air around them was becoming colder. She tensed up when the weight of a bottle filled with war liquid was put upon her good hand, she scowled at the dwarf who was opening the bottle. Kíli offered her a half smile when he noticed she was looking at him, Tauriel looked away scowling deeply.

“Thank you but I don’t need any more help from you.” She stood up though the bottle stayed with her, Kíli stepped back erasing any smile from his face. “I am in your debt, I cannot allow myself to get any deeper in such a debt. My position wouldn’t allow me to repay you as I should.”

“I don’t need payment for my good deed.” Kíli retorted slightly annoyed. “I did it because it was the right thing to do. This is amber, it will keep you warm.”

“How about you?” She finally asked taking a long sip from the beverage.

“I don’t need it.” Kíli said simply.

The dwarf then stood up looking around before his eyes turned to some spot in the distance; his hands fell on the head of the wolf with his fingers scratching him right behind the ear. She watched the scene with curiosity, the wolf and the dwarf made a strange pairing in the midst of a forest that was supposed to belong to the Elven Kingdom of Mirkwood. She was watching at her savior distractedly, her mind telling her there was something important she was forgetting but at the moment all her attention had been trapped by this mysterious warrior who was like anything she had seen before.

Suddenly, Kíli smiled making his face lit up and his features even more handsome than before. She looked away rather fast with her cheeks turning red and her scowl deepening.

“They are coming.” He commented sitting down on the ground. “Which is good because the other pack of orcs is almost here.”

“They? Who are they?” She asked and her hand finally was capable of putting her sword out of her sheath. “Where are the orcs coming from? What are you talking about?”

She couldn’t help the exasperate tone on her voice, she glared at Kíli who seemed rather enthusiastic about what he had said.

The dwarf looked contemplative for a moment, as if counting mentally before he answered, “The hunters who are the guardians of the forest, the Royal Guards and I think I saw my brother and my cousin with them; and I believe I mentioned the orcs before.”

The woman blinked slowly turning in the direction the dwarf was looking but she saw nothing, she furrowed her brows shaking her head.

“I see no one.” She commented shaking again, now the adrenaline of the battle was gone she was starting to feel the cold and the pain in her body.

“Oh, but they are coming believe me.” He said with a heavy sigh.

She tried to look back into the forest but her eyes only found darkness, a few minutes passed and the cold was getting impossible to bear for her. She wrapped her right arm around her left shivering slightly, the wolf wriggled his tail again nuzzling the sitting dwarf with his muzzle. The dwarf glanced at the wolf then back at her, he pursed his lips shaking his head; the wolf pressed his muzzle against him again whimpering softly.

“Stop it, she said she didn’t want my help.” He whispered though he was pretty sure she could hear him.

She turned to him before lowering her gaze; the dwarf huffed shaking his head until the wolf growled lowly.

“Ugh, you’re worse than Ada.” He mumbled putting his sword on the ground while taking off the cloak covering his body. He stood up making his way towards her, their eyes met for a moment and this time around it was him the one looking away.

“Here, you must be cold.” He mumbled placing the cloak around the woman, she looked down allowing the warm comfort of the cloak to surround her body.

“I cannot take this, you say you don’t need it but it is getting colder by the minute.” Tauriel commented though her good hand put the cloak closer to her body, her eyes took in the light clothing the dwarf was wearing

The dwarf smirked shaking his head, “You don’t need to worry about me, Tauriel of the Rangers of the North. I won’t get cold, trust me.”

She looked away thinking on what to say but before she could speak sounds of footsteps reached her ears. She leaned forward narrowing her eyes when she finally saw the forms of different beings coming towards them.

“They’re here.” The dwarf said crossing his arms.

“Kili!” The clear voice of one of the approaching figures reached them in the silence of the forest.

The woman saw as a tall, blond elf came right up at them wrapping his arms around the dwarf before putting him at arm’s length. She observed as the dwarf rolled his eyes though his lips curled up in a content smile.

“You foolish little brother.” The elf said and Kíli smile.

“Brother?” The woman inquired watching from the elf to the dwarf then back to the elf.

“Who is she?” Another dwarf came right at them, this one was older looking with blond hair and a growing beard on his face.

“She was the one being followed by the orcs.” Kíli explained. “Did you guys catch the others?”

“We did.” Legolas narrowed his eyes at the woman before centering his attention on Kíli. “You scare me for a moment. You know you should not run off the way you did.”

Kíli rolled his eyes stepping back, “I know. Feren.”

One of the elves came forward bowing his head, “My Liege?”

“There is another pack near the east road.” Tauriel couldn’t help the glint of surprise in her eyes at the sudden change in the dwarf, his voice sounded deeper and commanding and the elf, who was taller and older than him, seemed to bend over to the will of the dwarf.

“Protect the forest and make sure these foul creatures are vanished.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Feren gave one last reverence before he left with half the warriors that had come with them.

It wasn’t until then Tauriel realized half of the warriors were dwarves, she had heard of the Kingdom of Erebor and Mirkwood, of course. But had never been in the lands of the region of Rhovanion, her ears had caught the stories about the land where elves and dwarves were a single Kingdom with a single goal. She tilted her head contemplating the blond elf who was wrapping the young dwarf in yet another hug, this one a little tighter and more playful than before.

“You little brat.” Legolas commented fondly, his free hand ruffling the hair of his brother. “You know father would have killed me if I lost you on the first month after their departure.”

Kíli snickered getting away from Legolas grasp, he hid behind Fíli who lifted his arms wanting for the two brothers to leave him out of it. Legolas stepped forward and Fíli soon found himself smelling the musky scent that was all Legolas.

“Who are you? All of you?”

Legolas furrowed his brows glancing at the woman, the rest of the elves all spread around forming a tight protective circle around the group. The woman glanced up and her eyes went immediately to Kíli who was looking at her with a hint of worry in his eyes, beside him the blond elf was eyeing her critically while the blond dwarf was looking at the dead bodies of the orcs.

“What is your name, ranger?” Legolas was the first one to speak, the woman faced the elf with her eyes drifting from him to Kíli.

“Tauriel.” She answered aware of the curious glances she got when her name left her lips.

“What are you doing in our forest, Tauriel?” Legolas asked placing a hand on Kíli’s shoulder.

Tauriel looked around her and for a moment she went silent, her mind was working fast on her situation until realization appeared in her eyes. She glanced at the blond elf then at the elven guards surrounding them, Kíli winced when the young woman placed her right arm on her chest and she bended over in a respectful bow.

“I didn’t know my saviors were the Princes of the forest, my Lord. I came here looking for help, and help was what I got though...” She said in a solemn voice, when she incorporated she didn’t dare to look at Kíli. “I apologize, I just never imagine I would find you in this parts of the woods.”

“And yet, you did.” Legolas stepped forward looking critically at the woman. “I am Legolas Thranduilion, Prince of the Woodland Realm and older brother to the heir of the Throne of Erebor and Mirkwood.”

“I’m the cousin.” Fíli said stepping forward, his hand brushing against Legolas’ one. “Fíli, son of Víli and Dís and Prince of Ered Luin, at your service.”

Tauriel tensed up when she turned her green eyes to Kíli the young dwarf was scratching the back of his head. The woman shook her head looking away though her hand went immediately to the already healing wound.

“I’m Kíli, though you already knew that.” Kíli mumbled, Legolas quirked a brow glancing from his brother to the human woman.

“Yes, I did, your Majesty though I didn’t know the true about your position.” Tauriel mumbled bowing again.

“Right, then allow me to correct that.” Kíli replied smiling goofily at her. “I am Kíli Thranduilion, of the House of Durin and heir to the Throne of Mirkwood and Erebor.”

“I apologize, Prince Kíli for any trouble I may have caused you with my insolence and…”

“Oh, no, don’t apologize, he was the one running around like a maniac without waiting for us.” Fíli commented offhandedly.

“Yes, my foolish little brother almost got himself eat by a pack of orcs because he was impatient. Again.” Legolas finished eyeing Kíli with amusement.

“It wasn’t my fault.” Kíli crossed his arms. “I couldn’t wait until you and Fíli stop doing that weird thing with your eyes and the longing behind your love-struck stares.”

Both, Fíli and Legolas blushed furiously glaring at Kíli who was now smirking in triumph. Tauriel quirked a brow at the scene, she was about to speak when another blond came right at them, this one was looking older even if his features were stuck in a youthful age.

“My dear Princes, we really don’t want to start another discussion, do we?” Glorfindel gave the Princes a half-smile when the three of them look away shaking their heads. “Good, because I sense another headache and we still have to deal with the twins.”

Then, Glorfindel shifted his stare and he was looking at the woman who was standing in the midst of the confusion and the family reunion.

“Welcome, Lady Tauriel, to the Forest of Mirkwood.” Glorfindel commented eyeing the woman critically. “You have enter the forest with great danger right behind you, my Lady. I surely hope you know now you are a guest in the House of my Lords and, until further notice you shall reside there until we clear out this recent happenings.”

“You mean, the orcs following me into the forest?” Tauriel inquired lifting her chin in defiance.

“Among other things.” Kíli replied. “It is a habit of the Rangers of the North to come forth when danger and darkness is close by.”

“Usually.” Fíli grumbled with just a hint of jealousy in his voice, Legolas couldn’t help but rolled his eyes though his lips curled slightly upwards.

Tauriel frown deepened, she was about to say something else but the events of the day, her blood lost and the excitement of the last few days had finally caught up to her. Before she hit the ground Kíli was right there beside her holding her up, Kíli eyed her face watching how the color left her cheeks. Glorfindel arched a brow with his eyes gleaming with interest, Legolas scowled stepping forward and helping Kíli.

“I can do it.” Kíli whispered to which Legolas merely stopped him before he did something foolish.

“I do not doubt it, Kíli. But for her own good let Master Glorfindel carry her.” Legolas spoke softly to which Kíli could only nodded.

“Very well.”

“Don’t worry, my Prince, I will tell her it was you the one to carry her in your arms to safety.” Glorfindel teased.

“Oh, shut up.” Kíli grumbled hiding away his blushing face. “I just…She seemed really lost and in need of help, it was my duty to come forth and help her.”

“Right, and I am just the messenger.” Glorfindel clarified still smirking, Kíli rolled his eyes lifting his arms in defeat.

Legolas wrapped his arm around his brother’s shoulder, “Don’t worry, he is going to take good care of your damsel in distress.”

Kíli glared at his brother though he didn’t try to run away from his embrace, “Keep teasing, go ahead. I won’t even mention how you moan F…humph.”

“Right, no more teasing then.” Legolas felt his cheeks coloring red he narrowed his eyes at Kíli who was smiling in triumph while Fíli came to then looking suspicious.

“Those bodies, did you notice the markings?” Fíli finally spoke still watching between Kíli and Legolas.

Kíli furrowed his brows lifting his hand to take Legolas’ hand away from his mouth, “No, what markings?”

“These ones.” Fíli threw them a helmet he had on his hands, Legolas grabbed and his semblance turned into a mask of pure seriousness.

Kíli tensed looking away when his eyes caught the sight of the red eye marked on the black helmet, dark whispers filled his head as a memory of fire tried to break into his mind. It wasn’t the first time they had come across such marking, it wasn’t the first time Kíli heard those voices. The Dwarven-Prince clenched his fists while Legolas glanced at the helmet with a deep frown, Fíli stood close the Legolas glancing in between both Princes.

“The eye of Mordor.” Legolas whispered lifting his face to look at the woman Glorfindel was still carrying. “She must not be a common ranger, and these orcs are not common ones either.”

“Do you think they are near or she enter the forest alone?” Legolas inquired glancing back at his younger brother, Kíli cocked his head pursing his lips thoughtfully while Fíli looked away annoyed.

“I didn’t sense anyone else.” Kíli finally replied.

“It is strange, I have thought Lord Arathorn or Aragorn would have come with her.” Legolas commented putting the helmet away.

Fíli clenched his fists at the mention of Lord Arathorn’s son, the dwarf glanced out of the corner of his eyes to the elf walking beside him. However, Legolas seemed completely deep in thought still mumbling about the Rangers of the North, Fíli shifted slightly until his eyes caught those of a very amused Kíli. Kíli shook his head highly amused when Fíli looked away trying to hide his flustered expression from the knowing glance of his cousin.

“Aragorn must…” Legolas trailed off when he realized Fíli seemed to be sulking and Kíli was chuckling slightly.

“What? What did I miss?” Legolas inquired but Fíli remained silent and Kíli shot his older brother an exasperate stare.

“ _Hano (brother)_ , it is really not important to know if Aragorn is nearby or can help.” Kíli shrugged giving Fíli a quick glance then turning his attention to the red-head who was still unconscious in Glorfindel’s arms.

“It is important, Kíli.” Legolas scowled tightening his hold on the helmet on his hand. “Do you remember their warning last time they were here?”

“Oh, I can only remember Aragorn seem incapable of taking his eyes off of you.” Fíli winced when his mouth opened and he wasn’t fast enough to stop the words, his fingers playing with the ring he always wore on his right hand. The world seemed to freeze for a moment, Legolas felt his cheeks burn slightly though he shot Fíli a quick glance.

Kíli opened his eyes impressed and slightly surprise at the sudden outburst. The young dwarf decided to step back and merely watch this conversation from afar, when Kíli dared to stare at his brother he saw Legolas had a regretful expression hidden behind a cold determination. Those blue eyes gleamed with a strange emotion while Fíli made all the possible to walk closer to the elf.

“What I mean is, he was so close to you and paying you certain attention, I never thought he ever mentioned any kind of warning.” Fíli tried to cover up his own words but his attempt to do so merely fail.

Legolas clenched his jaw settling his eyes on some spot in the sky, “You didn’t seem too indifferent to Lady Arwen’s attention when we held council with the elves from Rivendell and Lothlórien; nor were you indifferent to the dwarf-lady your mother brought the last time she was here.”

It was a ridiculous discussion.

Fíli and Legolas knew tis but there was a part of them that couldn’t stop the words for spilling out of their mouths, Legolas felt like a youngster all over again while Fíli felt expose in ways he had cared to never let himself be.  Kíli bit the inside of his cheek trying to hold his breathing for a moment, his eyes soon found those of Glorfindel who was paying close attention to the discussion; his Master smirked and Kíli rolled his eyes. It had become a costume from Fíli and Legolas to play around one another, their dance was amusing at first but the Dwelf-Prince had come to realize sooner or later this game would end up with a heartbreak.

Fíli shifted slightly, he shivered for a moment shaking his head, “Ugh, please do not remind me of that time. Hn, all I can think of is that she used to eat snots.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Legolas suddenly exclaimed turning his attention to a now smiling Fíli.

“I wish I was.” The young Prince commented offering a charming expression to the elf walking beside him. “I cannot see her without remembering all those times she would eat them in front of me.”

Legolas hated the fact his heart felt lighter, he hated it even more his lips moved on their own answering to the growing grin on Fíli’s face. Kíli bumped into his brother wriggling his eyebrows playfully.

“Does your mother know the she-dwarf she wants to marry you with eats snot?” Kíli inquired tilting his head innocently. “I mean, his eating habits could be important in the near future.”

Fíli came forward punching Kíli on his arm, the young dwelf winced slightly trying to cover up his left side while Fíli kept on hitting. Kíli smiled cheekily teasing his cousin about his future marriage and how his babies would end up eating snot and having snot feasts. Both cousins played around while their footsteps led them down the road to the Elven City; they were highly distracted by the childish antics of one another they never noticed the shadow of sadness crossing Legolas’ face. Only Glorfindel who had always an eye on his protégées noticed the light of life leaving the blue eyes of Legolas and the hope vanishing for a moment.

*****

The city came into view just as the storm seemed to get even worse.

The snow was now covering the roads, the wind kept on blowing around them making the visibility harder than it already was. The day was turning to night even if it wasn’t later than mid-day, the lights of the Elven City came into view telling the travelers the snowstorm had already caught up to them and there was nothing else they could do. The guards at the gates were calling for those who were still outside; Galion came into view bowing to his Princes though his eyes lingered in the unconscious form of the human woman Glorfindel was carrying.

“Well, we’re here.” Kíli mumbled watching as the gates of the Woodland Realm closed right behind him.

No sooner had he said this two yellow and red blurs came right at them, both blurs crashing against Kíli and Legolas respectively.

“Kíli!”

“Legolas!”

Legolas and Kíli dropped what they had on their arms, they knelt welcoming with open arms the two five-year-old dwelves that were wrapping their arms around them. The blonde girl tightened her hold on Kíli and this time around the Dwelf-Prince couldn’t hide his pain, he moaned jerking away from the embrace.

“Ow, sorry Melian.” Kíli gritted his teeth trying to smile but failing miserably. The little girl stepped back with sadness in her eyes.

“You hurt, Kíli.” She whispered looking around as if asking for help.

“Hey, this is nothing, _Nésa._ ” Kíli whispered winking at her, he tried to stand up but a sharp pain on his side told him it wouldn’t be a good idea.

“Kíli?” A little voice mumbled from his left side and when Kíli turned to the source he found his little brother hiding behind Legolas leg with his thumb inside his mouth.

“You didn’t mention you were hurt.” Legolas scolded Kíli placing a calming hand on top of Frerin’s head.

“I didn’t think it was that bad.” Kíli winced when Melian came closer poking him on the side. “Now, I know it is bad. Can you help me up, Fíli? Galion?”

Legolas picked Frerin and Melian up both children wrapped their arms around the elf’s neck watching as Kíli was carried to the Healing wing.

“Is he gonna be fine?” Melian asked snuggling closer to Legolas.

“Of course he is, or else Ada is going to kill me.” Legolas retorted winking at Melian, the little dwelf giggled nodding.

“Ada won’t kill you, Leggy.” Frerin rested his head on Legolas head. “We love you.”

Legolas melted right away smiling at them, his arms tightened around them while they entered the healing wing. The Elven-Prince watched as Kíli was being attended by one of the healers and the red-head woman was put in another room. Melian and Frerin were put on the ground and soon the twins were right beside Kíli sitting to his side making questions about what the healer was doing and how was Kíli doing.

“You are hurt as well.” Legolas jumped startle at the sound of the voice, he turned to see Fíli was holding something on his hand.

“Hurt?”

Fíli nodded lifting his hand to Legolas’ one, the Elven-Prince felt a shiver ran up his arms straight to his beating heart. Fíli moved his hand that was holding a white cloth, he flickered his eyes to the elf who was looking intently at him.

“It’s just a scratch.” Legolas mumbled feeling his mouth getting dry.

Fíli smirked cleaning the scratch tenderly, “Better get it clean, you never know when is it going to get infect and then it’s going to smell bad and then, when we last thought about it, we have to cut the hand off.”

Legolas snorted shaking his head trying to hide the forming blush on his cheeks, “Now, you’re exaggerating.”

“Perhaps.” Fíli whispered stepping closer, Legolas couldn’t look away from the dwarf feeling the tension around them growing instead of decreasing.

“Prince Legolas.”

The voice of the newcomer broke the spell both Princes were in, Legolas turned sharply towards the source of the voice while Fíli stood there trying to control his own emotions. Feren glanced at the elf pressing his right arms against his chest.

“What is it, Feren?”

Legolas stood there tensing slightly when he felt Kíli standing beside him, Feren shifted slightly with his eyes drifting away to the room where Tauriel was still resting. Glorfindel came right in furrowing his brows, Feren sighed looking away before settling his eyes on Legolas then on Kíli.

“The rest of the Rangers, the companions of the woman over there are dead.” Feren commented solemnly. “We found them murdered with their heads on spears at the edge of the forest.”

Kíli clenched his jaw closing his fists in anger, “How is that possible?”

“There were more than one group of orcs, my Lord.” Feren explained. “We were too late.”

Silence filled the room, Kíli was soon distracted of his anger when a little hand closed around his. The Dwelf-Prince looked down to see Frerin watching him with big, brown eyes Kíli tried to smile but he knew it was coming the wrong way.

“I’m sorry to interrupt.” Bilbo came right there and then, behind him were some of the elves working in the kitchens.

“It’s fine, Bilbo.” Kíli smiled weakly at the hobbit who smile back. “I was wondering when you were going to feed us.”

“Right now.” Bilbo instructed the elves to place the food around so the Princes and Glorfindel could eat.

“I’m sorry to hear about the rangers.” Bilbo commented sitting beside Kíli, the young dwarf nodded and his eyes drifted back to where the red-head was still asleep.

“She is going to be devastated when she finds out.” Kíli mumbled.

Bilbo nodded offering a gentle smile to the young dwarf, “She will need you and all of us, at least until we have made contact with Lord Arathorn to see if she is part of his group.”

Kíli nodded taking another piece of bread in his mouth, “Thank you for the food, Uncle Bilbo.”

“Hn, you must be really sad if you’re calling me that.” Bilbo teased bumping against Kíli, the young dwarf chuckled shaking his head.

“I always call you that.” Kíli then whispered. “Ever since I was a kid.”

Bilbo smiled at the memory, “I know.”

"You should sleep some.” Legolas came at them offering his brother a glass of juice. “You don’t look well.”

Kíli didn’t argue with Legolas, he merely stood up and went to the bed the healers had prepared for him. Legolas followed him with a concern glint in his eyes, soon Kíli was on the bed with Frerin and Melian snuggling closed to him, the events of the day catching up to them until dream overcame them.

Darkness had already fallen in the land of Rhovanion.

The snowstorm was taking over the land, the wind blew around the trees caressing the leaves and brushing against the trunks. The land was soon covered in white and grey, everything was a blurry sight for those who dare ventured in such a weather.

Kíli woke with a start.

He was breathing hard with sweat falling down his forehead, he swallowed looking at the ceiling of his room with his ears catching the even breathing of his siblings. He tightened his hold on Melian and Frerin, his heart beating fast against his chest as his memory brought back the image of the lidless eye burning with flames around it watching him with maliciousness demanding to return what he had not stolen.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

“I forgot you were in your cycle.” Thorin growled lowly suddenly, Thranduil sighed with his hands grasping at the dwarf putting him closer. “You smell so good. I’m afraid I won’t be able to contain myself from having you. Would you like that, _Amrâl?_ For me to claim you?”

Thranduil shivered in pleasure with his soul already giving in, shattering before the Dwarven-King that was looking at him with such a desire in his eyes. Time had been kind with them, their faces young and ethereal showing their shared destiny to those who dare to look closely. The Elven-King had always loved it when his lover give in his basic instincts and went from what he desired, Thorin came at him with a predatory stare in his eyes, behind the lust Thranduil was always content to find love. Thorin smirked when Thranduil came across the door of their room, there was no one around them but the dwarf was not about to jeopardize this moment; not since they could get away from home and have a moment alone for them. In a moment of pure playfulness, Thorin bounced on Thranduil and soon both Kings were enjoying one another in the guest’s room.

Laughter filled the room they were in.

Thranduil allowed his lover the playful touches and needy kiss while he teased him with his eyes and mouth. The lights of the room flickered around their frames creating entrancing shadows in the clean room, Thorin almost tripped on his feet bumping against Thranduil until both of them had fallen ungracefully on their bed. Thranduil laughed at first until he felt Thorin grinding on his crotch, his lips sucking on the expose neck of the elf.

“We have never done it in Elrond’s home, have we?”

Thranduil chuckled putting Thorin on top of him, his leg wrapping tightly around his waist while their lips crashed in a heated kiss. Thorin groaned bucking his hips slowly with a hint of invitation as his member grew inside his pants, Thranduil gasped breaking the kiss while his legs fell open to give some space to the dwarf.

“I…I don’t think we have, _Meleth_.”

“Yes, you haven’t done it in my home and I would very much appreciate it that if you’re going to do it to at least close the door of your room.” Elrond commented dryly from the door, behind him Lindir was blushing furiously trying to look everywhere but at the pair of Kings who were on the bed getting ready to debouch Elrond’s home.

Thorin cleared his throat holding back his smirk when Thranduil sat down glaring at Elrond, “The door was closed.”

“It wasn’t.” Elrond replied glancing at Thorin who was looking away guiltily, the Lord of Imladris pointed at Thorin wryly. “And your husband over there knows it, by the guilty look on his face.”

“You didn’t close the door?” Thranduil asked with a hint of irritation in his voice.

“I was kind of busy trying to get you out of your clothes.” Thorin replied trying to cover his erection. “It has been a while, you know?”

Elrond rolled his eyes stepping inside the room, “As interesting as this conversation may turn out to be, I have come to invite you to the dinner table and then to our nightly meetings in the Fire Room.”

“Wait.” Thorin lifted a hand glaring at the elf who was looking at both Kings with fake innocence behind his grey eyes. “You interrupted us to say this?”

“If you haven’t forgotten to close the door we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Thranduil pointed out though he was too glaring at Elrond.

Thorin rolled his eyes and the lustful magic he had been feeling when they reached their room was lost, the Dwarven-King closed his eyes before looking at Elrond who was now smirking unable to hide his amusement any longer.

“So, are we going to have the pleasure of your company? Since no pleasure is going to be done at the moment?” Elrond laughed evading the pillow throw his way, he exited the room still laughing with Lindir following him close behind shaking his head with a blush still adorning his youthful features.

“I hate him.” Thranduil mumbled cocking his head to look over at Thorin.

Thorin smiled leaning in to kiss the elf slowly, “Me too. Should we try to debauch his personal studio?”

“I love the way you think, _Meleth_.” Thranduil nibbled on Thorin’s lips with his hand wrapping around the nape of the King’s neck.

Suddenly, Thorin pulled away nuzzling the face of his lover, “Do you think they are all right?”

“Hn, it was about time they deal with the twins, don’t you think?”

“I was actually talking about Kíli and Legolas, the twins know their way around any dangers.” Thorin replied placing soft kisses on his lover’s neck. “You know they warn us about no more children, right?”

“Who said this was going to lead to more children?” Thranduil whispered putting Thorin to him, the Dwarven-King snuggled close to the elf giving him loving caress with his eyes sparkling in joy.

“Have you thought about it? I mean, we having more kids?” Thorin asked suddenly glancing in wonder at Thranduil, this was a discussion they had left for a later time after the twins had been born and it was something they had been avoiding for fear of saying or doing something that might lead to a fight.

“I have.” Thranduil answered honestly, his fingertips outlining the face of his lover.

“I think for now we have enough in our hands.” Thorin mumbled looking away for a moment.

Thranduil lifted his face closing his eyes when his lips brushed against the ones of the dwarf, he sighed contentedly when the beard of his lover scratched against his sensitive skin.

“I wouldn’t say no to more children if it is what you desire, but I think our family is already big enough.” Thranduil commented to which Thorin grinned broadly.

“We have a big family, haven’t we?” He commented and Thranduil felt his heart shrank with different emotions when he heard Thorin speak like this.

“We have the best family, yes.” Thorin blinked at comment smiling still, he shifted his weight until he was lying on the bed with his arm wrapped around the elf. They laid there for moment with Thranduil closing his eyes listening to the heartbeat of his lover, Thorin rubbing his arm slowly.

“What I desire I already have.” Thorin continued nuzzling Thranduil’s hair. “I have you and our children, whatever else comes we will take it with the same determination we have done so far.”

Thranduil smiled snuggling closer to Thorin, “You have such a way with words I sometimes doubt you’re a dwarf.”

Thorin snorted with his lips curling up, Thranduil opened his eyes placing his hand on the dwarf’s abdomen.

“I’m afraid of losing them.” Thranduil reveled suddenly. “I’m afraid in the near future losing them is going to be painful.”

“Then, _Amrâl_ , we have to make sure they are happy and they live long and prosper.” Thorin commented tightening his hold on the elf.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t bring these dark thoughts into our trip…” Thranduil lifted himself to stare at the dwarf who smiled gently at him.

“I have thought about it as well, _Amrâl_. It will happen, but by then we will make sure they are old enough and have live long enough there won’t be any regrets.” Thorin placed his hand on the elf’s head putting him down for a kiss.

Thranduil didn’t say anything else, he merely enjoyed the sound of his husband’s heartbeat; the Elven-King found it amazing how easy was for Thorin to calm him down. Even after all these years, Thorin usually knew what to say or do to make Thranduil feel good. It wasn’t the first time they got into such a conversation, the thought of their children being mortal was something that had scared Thorin at the very beginning. It wasn’t until he got to see Kíli’s first footsteps, or hear his first words that Thorin understood it didn’t matter how long they were going to be together, what mattered to him was for his children to be happy.

“I can still smell you, _Amrâl_.” Thorin growled suddenly and Thranduil was reminded of the early activities. “And yet, even though we are alone and there won’t be anyone coming this way to bounce in our bed and demand to sleep with us all I can seem to want to do at the moment is hold you.”

Thranduil chuckled placing his face on the nape of Thorin’s neck, “And here I thought you were going to ravish me.”

“I will, believe me. It has been a while.” Thorin replied lowering his hand until he was squeezing Thranduil’s ass. “But, now…I just…”

“I know.” Thranduil replied understanding. “I want you to hold me as well.”

There was still time, Thranduil knew there was nothing that would stop Thorin from making a claim on his body, soul and heart. But, as the years progressed and they learnt to live with one another, Thorin had also turned his lust and desire in moments to get closer to Thranduil. Sometimes, before the sex or the lust, came moments of bonding in which Thorin and Thranduil would share moments like this one. Conversations in the night, or long walks in the Kingdom, sometimes it was working around one another while their fëa did the talking.

They didn’t realize they had fallen asleep, the night progressed and the cold around Middle Earth grew stronger with each passing minute. Their minds had slipped away into a dreamland ignoring the growing darkness already covering the earth, and the shadows of the enemy nearing the land where their children were already facing foreign demons.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

The Valley of Imladris was a land untouched by time.

Even in the midst of winter the sun reached the valley touching the land with its clear light, the water twinkled playfully while the sounds of the current filled the surrounding area of the Last Homely Home. Thorin couldn’t explain with words how relief and at peace he felt in the Valley, the first time he had been in Elrond’ home he found himself loving the sight of the gardens and the trees, the sight of the mountains surrounding them and protecting them from the dangers of the outer world. The Dwarven-king leaned against the railing of the Dome watching down the Valley, he was still getting used to his enhance senses how his nose would caught the scent of the grass and the flowers, of the snow and the coming spring. Thorin was still quite bewildered at how his eyes caught side of things happening at a great distance, how the details of the world around him seemed to change and turned into something meaningful. Thorin curled up his lips with his heart beating in contained emotion, his soul reaching out to share the happiness when was feeling with the one that hold his affections.

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?” Galadriel stood beside Thorin glancing at the Valley spreading in front of her, she shifted her head until her clear eyes were completely focused on Thorin.

“It is.” Thorin replied looking at the mountains surrounding the Valley. “It would be even better if Lord Elrond allow me to build some halls inside the mountain.”

Galadriel laughed softly shaking her head, “I don’t think he is ready for that to happen.”

Thorin snorted nodding, “Elves.”

Galadriel stepped closer to him looking at the dwarf with those ageless eyes of her. Thorin squirmed slightly, he shot a puzzle stare at the elf who suddenly seemed pretty serious and far away.

“It has been quite some time since we last saw one another.” She commented softly, “How are the children?”

“They were perfectly fine when we left. Though, Legolas and Kíli were terrified of being left alone with the twins.” Thorin replied with his face softening slightly, the affection and warm on his voice brought a content expression on Galadriel’s face. “They are good kids, though. I know Legolas and Kíli will do a great job taking care of everything.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Galadriel focused her stare on the people who were now filling the table of the council under the Dome. Her eyes went from her husband to Elrond, then to Oropher, Thranduil and, finally to Gandalf.

“This meeting…” Galadriel started slowly measuring her words, Thorin cocked his head paying close attention to her. “The world is changing, King Thorin. Darkness seems to be growing while we sit in here. A great danger is growing by the day threatening the free people of Arda.”

Thorin stiffened at these words, he narrowed his eyes with his heart weighting heavily on his chest. In a brief moment, the face of Legolas and the twins came to him he felt a helpless emotion filling up his soul at the thought of not being able to protect them; nevertheless what really made him froze was the memory of Kíli’s cries in the middle of the night after a special horrid nightmare or those moments in which a young Kíli would deny having stopped sleeping for the shadows of his nightmares lingering in his mind.

Galadriel nodded sharply as if she had been reading the dwarf’s mind, “Kíli has always been quite perceptive. His nightmares have always been more than simple dreams.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?” Thorin finally asked.

“It mean, King Thorin, we must be ready for the worst.”

*****

Thorin sat in the middle of the meeting with his mind wandering far away from what was being discussed. He was still highly worried about his thoughts regarding his children and the gloomy words of Lady Galadriel; Thranduil glanced at Thorin out of the corner of his eyes, his hand sneaking around to wrap itself around the dwarf’s one.  Thorin felt the warm comfort of his lover though he closed of his thoughts of doom while trying to focus on what Gandalf had been saying in the last moments.

“There has been some unusual activity in the Land of Mordor.” He said gravely. “The people of Gondor are highly worried about this, they have seen dark things approaching the accursed land as if call by an invisible voice.”

“This is nothing new, though.” Oropher replied. “We have known for quite some time this was happening.”

“What does Lord Saruman think of this, though?” Elrond asked leaning back against his chair, Gandalf furrowed his brows glancing at some invisible spot on the table.

“I do not know. As of late, I have been incapable of reaching out to Saruman.”

“Worrisome news these are.” Galadriel replied though her tone was slightly cold and her eyes were gleaming smartly.

“Yes…” Gandalf trailed off looking around the table before speaking again. “There is something else I want to share with all of you.”

Before Gandalf could do or say anything else they heard heavy and fast footsteps approaching them, the group turned around to see a very disheveled Lord Arathorn entering the dome. The man was breathing hard with sweat rolling down his forehead, he had dirty on his cheek and his clothing seemed as if it had seen better days. The man looked around the table with crazed eyes before stepping forward, he put something from under his cloak throwing it on the table. Thorin narrowed his eyes at the black blade the man had put on the table, he lowered his gaze to the hand Thranduil was now holding as if it was going to disappear at any moment.

“They’re dead.” Arathorn spoke roughly trying to keep his breathing under control.

“Who? Arathorn, what happened?” Elrond asked leaning forward.

“My men. My cousin. Twenty of my best men are dead, slaughtered like they were nothing.” Arathorn spat out. “This blade…this Morgul blade was there.”

“Arathorn…” Celeborn started but the man stopped the elf with a gesture of his hand.

“There is more.” He said and the room felt in an ill silence.

“What more can there be?” Thorin asked and Arathorn turned to him with a grimace.

“The creature Gandalf left in our care…it escape.” Gandalf stiffened at these news while Arathorn looked at him. “Gandalf, that creature left and he was making his way to Mordor. My men were destroy and the last news I got from them was that Angmar was once again active.”

“That cannot be…” Elrond blinked rapidly placing his hands on the table. “That cannot…”

Arathorn shook his head, “They are back, my Lords. I wouldn’t be saying this if I haven’t seen it with my own eyes.”

“They? Whose they? What the hell is going on?” Thorin exclaimed suddenly feeling as if he was the only one who didn’t know what was happening.

“The Nazgûl…” Arathorn whispered clenching his fists.

 

* * *

 

While Lord Arathorn found himself in front of the White Council and Kíli was waking up in the midst of a nightmare, the Land of Mordor became a beehive of activity.

The great eye of the enemy centered his attention in the inside of his tower, his mind working torture on the creature his servants had brought. The tower trembled under the screams of pain of such a pitiful creature, the orcs laughed evilly while the dark shadow of the Witch-King came closer to the pitiful creature.

“Tell me…” He whispered and his voice was like a thousand knives against the skin.

The creature whimpered, after hours and hours of pain and torture he finally broke and whisper the words the great Eye and the Witch-King needed to hear.

“Baggins! Shire!”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it. The official end of this story.   
> It saddens me and I really hope this epilogue was good and that you enjoy it reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. Ther is going to be a sequel, but it is going to take some time. I do want to apologize for the bad grammar, the spelling and the funny mistakes you may find here. You guys mean a lot to me and it means the world to me that you give me and the story this chance.   
> I hope to hear from you :D


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